Rem Digga - На юг - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

My fire did not go, it is inside. With him in the darkness I go full of them. There is a forward, where a formidable look. Skinny, sick reaches of willow stretch into the sky. My path is far away, to that steppe of evil and a gloomy way. My rep - a gift, and he was wrapped in the best darkness. I sat down, I'm waiting for a fist over my head. We are all a sign. I am not free, a displeased son of a bitch. On the battlefield, I miss the hooks in the cabbage soup. It hurts enough, who was scared you ??? But I am a span, like a bull, and they rod like fairies. According to the fields in boots, by the NIF and Min. We - they, Tyr one. Sifs came down to the hole, the world flies. I take a shield and a sword, I want to live and be. The caravan leaves into darkness, there areas are black-black, horror, darkness. There are rivers of dead fish, fallen birds, fallen nat. But I will return - know, a couple of discord, like ivy, like an octopus. If I turn, they will not understand me. Do not grieve your dear, do not call, do not forget. Yeah, there will be dissolved in the smoke in the distance. The caravan leaves south, goes into the darkness, everyone took his dream to warm her in hell. But my pain is a forgotten dream, a cartridge was thrown into the chamber. Whoever encroached on my house will be buried in it. A caravan leaves south, where the covers are given from a tree, as a gift. Where, the demons of war are fighting there. Hot barrels in the tank. Vit and beat is my instinct if the world is like a ring, if it is in blood. Behind my house, there my angel is sleeping, opened his mouth on them a bitch? Not a question, catch! The caravan leaves south, early in the morning. I keep love in my hands, I am silent. I'm just not breathing. I touch the strands with a burning hand. It’s just best to iron it. But they saw demons, here behind the river. And again they collect men. The caravan leaves south, the unloading is not unloaded. Lead tears are poisoned on the pulse. Tears tasted completely different. I'm going on the road like everyone else. With him I have been five minutes as I sat down. And I hold in my hands, I'm waiting for the dawn. Fragments of the former come to me. In the meadows of green in the grass. I kissed my knees, burned. Free, like the wind from these steppes. Oh, if I knew about the bitch of war. That the native fields are overwhelmed. You will scream, look at the fields burn. But I swear to you. Who stepped with a sword here. He did it in vain. The caravan leaves south, the horizon in the distance is flooded with blood. The smell of sweat, there is gunpowder, sly, the smell of burned hemp. Dirty paws climb into my house. Uncertain vile gandon. Time to show fangs. Who is the papa farm here, who is Don. The covered hemisphere, blew everyone. Small success. But we are an unnecessary cargo of Dves. Further the path to the forest. Demons are somewhere there, beyond the river. He does not catch his eyes under the visor. Caravan came to life? The native land is bowed. Who am I without these fields? Well, who am I without these fields, tell me. Generations, those that are in fire and I only burn with them. Who is without these hair? Who without these hands, relatives to me ??? For their life, ready to die. My homeland, dear, kind land. My homeland, you are alone with me. Motherland, be patient! Motherland. My homeland, you are alone with me ...