Текст песни Западный Фронт - Продано

Black shadow of my face
On the sunny road happy tomorrow
Each night of the locking ring
And the world is felt only by the smell
And I 'm still waiting on a habit dawn
And believe my eyes I'm so old-fashioned
But his eyes on the fingers do not feel the light
And all that's left is only freedom
But what is freedom in your market
Where faith sell a kilo of sausage
A poet's soul as drags
If it is put on the scales
Being the speculator does not need talent
And those who believed in love
the highest measure
Where is our faith?
SOLD ! SOLD !
SOLD ! SOLD !

Clot pain my soul
On a crystal bridge satiated temptations
But the pain is not worth a penny alas
Where all the clowns and every day a holiday
And everyone is afraid to look around
And opened his toothy jaws
A would-be clowns all hide fright
Behind the mask of contentment and well-fed Happiness
Everything sold nothing left
Earth keeps his pain
What will happen tomorrow ?
Where is our truth ?
SOLD ! SOLD !
SOLD ! SOLD !

Blearily my eyes
From dirty puddles look to a bright sky
Knife in the back tears on the images
And if there is somewhere though I was not there yet
So what do we believe and what we live
Oh Russian sick soul
So much land and swing a dead cat
This sky and can not breathe
I came back here and native land
As a bone gnawed
Where is my home?
... SOLD ! SOLD !
SOLD ! SOLD !