Again it seems I’m struck down with the chills
My hearts rattling like a stone inside a tin
This furry angry slob inside me makes me ill
With his gnarled and calloused hands he gets stuck in.

Well after paying attention to my "brother,"
My friends all said: "He’ll soon go on a spree!"
I can’t bear to be with him, I feel completely smothered
Because he grabs all the air instead of me.

He’s not my double nor a second "me"
Explaining him away is just foolishness
He’s my flesh and blood, my own bad blood you see -
Even Strugatsky would never dream of this.1

He’s waiting for me to end my mortal coil
With my own hand he’ll create a line for free.
And I will become niggardly and cruel
And sell everyone - gross or separately.

I’m not looking for excuses at all
I don’t care if life slides and melts away.
But I will not forgive the moments when I crawl
As he takes over me and has his way.

But I summon up the last of my strength
Logic can never vanquish him
So I force poison down my throat at length
Let him drink it, let him die - I’ve beaten him!