Who conducts the war , who sends soldiers
Victory cover spilled the blood of the enemy ,
Go squads . Soldiers patch wounds
Stubbornly , right , as the blood from the tap.
Extinguished the lamps in the temples when they bury heroes
Still alive preparing for the last battle.
The soldier looks at the sky , but can not see God,
Whispers to himself " a little patience ..."
My country is like one big barracks ,
Apparently , it is our Karma , Che Guevara ,
Warriors of Islam , green banner ,
Found a war somewhere in the pages of the Koran.
Banknotes mixed with preaching ,
Holiness, stained with innocent blood , and
The leaders of sharpening knives, launching misinformation ,
Power in the hands of thugs guardsmen .
Life, death - by the decision of the emperor,
Unhappy Themis - yes you have long been poisoned ,
Melted into coins and distributed ,
Recognition Law of us embossed rods .
Pleas slёznymi deafen the Almighty ,
But why did we not hear you? You see,
Rivers of blood out of the banks,
We lose fathers , we change the gods ...
I am the son of war, always ready for a fight ,
When the bloom poppy, I get dressed in khaki,
Hatred in tanks, Solarium fires , brother,
You see the blood from the ears , hear the text on the sheets ,
In the land of crosses, stars on the shoulder straps ,
In the spring of the heroes of tears poured birch,
Untwist spit sad bride
And Sew world cvyaschennye frescoes.
Bury young for the elderly blind ,
The flash on the right, left an ambush ,
Hear , to deliver a letter to my mother ,
Brother , throw bandages, bandage wounds!
Lived - a little, not seen his little son ,
Tears - reaction to these bright flashes ,
We cover ? No, brother - brother,
Who will take shortness of breath, and poprёm kid !
There are many, too , Nitsche , because we are Russian !
Hey, Che is your eyes have become some dull,
Get up , get up, give up too wound-
He died ... I do not believe , stubborn ...
Directly , through the fields , over there in the ravine I zalyagu ,
Had the flask me dog ,
Running at breakneck speed without looking at his feet,
Something strange , I whisper to God ,
Touch skalpelya- sniper's bullet ,
I fell to the ground , and I stood up slowly .
Flock approaching , I hike again in the red,
Farewell mamulechka - we will not see more .
I looked at the sky - so I have not seen it yet,
Sat on the ground , covering a ragged cloak ,
In the left hand grenade close to the chest ,
Pulled the pin ... one ... two ... three ...
