Îmi pare rău [English translation]

[Speak:]

I have many thoughts that make me write

Several times, I pick up the pen like a blade

Slowly I dissect my whole life

Moments resurface that I can't forget

I'm sorry that I didn't listen to my parents

What they gave me, a name held by saints

Nothing is more important than family

I try to hold them close no matter what happens

I'm sorry that I no longer pass home

To stay together at the same table

To tell you how much I love you

In pursuit of money, I forgot to cherish you

And for home, you give me hope

You make me pay attention to only what matters

I'm sorry that I didn't escort my grandparents

On the final road, into the sunset

[Alex Velea:]

If I hadn't been, you would have wanted me to be

I'm sorry, it's still not too late

To make a change, for everyone

To go further without question marks

[Speak:]

The pen still cuts, I'm panicking

I take another sheet, write what I think

About them, with sincerity

Awaiting excuses, awaiting facts

I have a handful of brothers that make me feel loved

On that long road, together we've begun

One crazier than the other, we wound up together

We share the same dream sought by others

I'm sorry, for the worse days

Without feeling like anything, mean and unfunny

Talk, without the intention to do bad

Scattered nerves, I regret them, I'm sorry

Taken refuge, far away from home

I have you, other beautiful family

I'm sorry, that I don't have too much time left

To stay together, to see you smiling more often

I understand you perfectly when I leave home

When I leave you in the doorway and the pain weighs upon you

I'm sorry, for every tear

Shed for me, from the heart, from the heart

[Alex Velea:]

If I hadn't been, you would have wanted me to be

I'm sorry, it's still not too late

To make a change, for everyone

To go further without question marks

[Doc:]

There's a fine line between bad feelings and regrets

You, believe me, that my eyes cry on the inside, but nobody sees

My brain stirred up loses itself in rhymes, I don't find myself

It's lost, my soul is iron on Friday

I could've been another man

Devil child in which, they want to sink in angels' talons like Tom

I ingest atoms of hope, so that I can shit out a plan for the future

But the past comes back, it's a stunning sledgehammer

It hits me in the chest, tells me that I smoked too much

I told myself that it isn't good, too smart to listen to myself

And I smoked with everyone, too right to hide myself

Three stakeouts in four days, it's perfect how I could sweat

Six blouses in three days, what do you want, fine? Auschwitz

I look back, I see how another regret comes, they have it! Spitz

Forget it coldly how it comes, the rest slips like a gel

I'll do it again 10, 11 times I will do it the same