We ran with you in the golden taiga,
When the tundra put on its golden outfit.
People groan sadly in a heavy cordon,
Strictly guards them ... Who? - And in the corners a machine gun.
On the tundra, on the railway,
Where the fast "Vorkuta-Leningrad" rushes.
And the rain dripped on the snout and on the muzzle of the revolver,
Bitches surrounded us and "Hands up the hill!" screaming.
But they miscalculated, the environment is punctured,
Bullet, brother, you are not afraid who saw her.
Female barrack:
On the tundra, on the railway,
Where the fast "Vorkuta-Leningrad" rushes.
And I sit alone and spit in the ceiling
Among people I am guilty, but before the Lord I am pure.
I have an icon and a restricted area above me,
And on the tower is still the same ... Who? - Bored fucking Chekist.
Smothering voices:
On the tundra, on the railroad,
Where the fast "Vorkuta-Leningrad" rushes.
And the mother will wait for the son, and the mother will see the son
Mother, son at that time to go on stage.
Intellectuals, do not misunderstand:
On the tundra, on the railway,
Where the fast "Vorkuta-Leningrad" rushes.
We're free now, we're out of the chase
The pistol charge will not reach us now.
Now we are free, of which we dreamed,
About which they talk so much in the camps.
Well, intellectuals, support:
On the tundra, on the railway,
Where the fast "Vorkuta-Leningrad" rushes.
Like this!