Charge and fire a volley of all weapons
After our topics, people leave the room with others.
And if I said - I thought ten times
Life flashed before my eyes, as if at gunpoint.
It blew from the west and brought the smell of a stranger,
And the air smelled of iron, the air smelled of war.
Bonfires burn and something moves in a snowstorm
And the enemy pitched the tents at our citadel.
They believe - to be a man, it means - to bull and humiliate,
And I think - it means - respect and not run.
Solve the issue in a crowd where everyone is so brave?
I saw - the guys came in arrows on one.
Before the execution, people kissed the cross,
He is a symbol of these places, like a checker and a sawn-off shotgun.
Before bed, my father read to me about the city of Sevastopol,
And my grandfather's grandfather was a Cossack from under Rostov.
This is the foundation, my root system
This is men left to children, mining in battles.
In these parts, where the drunken bull rumbles,
Yours counts as a draw, sniffs and blows.
In the paddies and parks I see - people are meaner and meaner,
And mothers in the garbage can give the last.
I am sick of the word "boy," and there are reasons.
Looking into my father’s eyes, I realized that you have to be a man.
It’s like Andrei Anikey with the “Idea of the Unit”,
With those who believe, I am ready to unite.
It’s not important - you’re a former drug addict, but the main thing is not dough,
Look here: Roman is generally confined to a chair.
We are the militia, we are muddying the Russian Renaissance,
And if you do not mind, then you are for us.
So price tags and labels between forget the Russian language,
Go sell your clothes - and buy a sword. (FROM)
