Mokochukcha, do you know what happens to yesterdays? Do they turn into tomorrows? Who cares, your glass is empty.
Mokochukcha, Iím seeing lots of purple and strawberry colours. Is this bad? Please tell me itís okay. Youíre all purple. Iím purple.
Mokochukcha, I want to dance but my feet are unwilling and thereís no one to dance with. You know you want to. Shall we?
Mokochukcha, is this eternity? Your smile? Our crazy dance? Is this what keeps people up all night, long after they should be at home in bed?
Mokochukcha, what do you dream of besides crazy dancing? Do you get drunk in your dreams too? I know I do. I do all sorts of things.
Mokochukcha, look at me: are people born for each other, or just for themselves? Why do we have to die anyway? Perhaps you know.
Mokochukcha, letís meet up again. In a soju bar, in a nightclub or even on the street. I’ll recognise you and weíll do it all over again.
Mokochukcha, you know you want to. Live.
*trans: ìDrink and die”.