Back when I was young and crazy, as they saynBut sure, I worked pretty hard, yeahnStole some money from my mom, and I hit the road to LeningradnI get stopped on the next train stop, in the middle of rural UkrainenThis is how it's all begunnAnd I will tell this story of a true rebellionnnHoya hoya hoyanHoya paranoian(Enough paranoia)nnMaybe I'm a man who is propellednSpinning circles of his doomnOr maybe I'm just paranoidnPlaced by the Lord in this roomnAnd a bottle will always be my covernAll of your eyebrows, will you please untienAnd if there's any room for a RomanWhat else is there left to romanticize?nnHoya, hoya, hoyanHoya paranoiannThis is only when I'm drunknOr do I see things any clearly?nIt's just like when one is dyslexicnWhatever, I will stay discivil!nnHoya hoya hoyanHoya paranoia