1.People are like from stones
Faces are like granite rocks
Hands are like at machines
Thoughts are secret and gloomy
Hard days are passing
and the hope is dying
No one looks into the future
and no one thinks of tomorrow

Chorus:
It’s a dead year
The next dead year
And again a dead year

2. No one looks into the eyes
    of casual passers – by
    It’s an existence of habit
    People are allowed to speak
    but they prefer to be quiet
    The Sun shines as always
    People say the same words
    Yesterday something died inside of us
    And it can not revive again

Chorus:
It’s a dead year etc.