To Fight To Be Free - расия - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I would like to live creativity, but I live in prostration, coated with everyday life. Pushkin had an unwashed Russia, in my eyes a dirty, sebaceous world massages the clitoris war every day.

You will be broken here for a forty -degree liter.

Here in the army they will make a man out of you, your guts will be sold and left to hang on a rope by the neck like a doll. "This is suicide" and all, no one fucks that the sprinkle of the stomach.

You can die in the department with a torn bottle of champagne, ass. Such things, your rights are a piece of shit that in Russia, in distant Europe.

The box puts your brains in a rinse mode while you are scratching the eggs and caressing your remote control, people kill each other, for the king, money, medals and a nation. The shell-shocked murderer is a hero, a low bow, he is a veteran, fuck- to fight.

Colors ribbons to knit from head to toe. Thank you, dear grandfathers, that we were all saved. We will overturn the glasses for you, while you, unnecessary for anyone, are alive. You probably don’t know that we raise Russia from the knees, dressing on Kezhala and chasing a football. We remember you, do not forget, congratulations to you from the public "Ziga, Bro" every year of May.

What am I doing here? I dont know. I hope I will not live to old age. I will be lit up at the entrance, according to the classics. This can happen to everyone here, this is not fantasy and everyone knows about it.

This is Russia :

White pride.

The population is eternally blue.

And red moccasins.