8u - виселица манит нас пальцем - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

From Martinic, the gallows beckons us with a finger, a hot collar and cat; To master our own death, we need to fill the lethal mirror of the ocean, see the white skulls of our eyes. From now on, we will sail as one, and the chosen one will rule equally. So said Karachalli, bathing in the cool merciful dawn, and, having seen his autocracy, the team rejoiced, and I, who would more likely let him tear off his skin, which agreed to carry his name - this is a terrible stigma of a person - chose the word Misson with his military pseudonym, And he announced without any abyss that Misson was a fantasy and a hallucination in the constrained minds of dogs that hunted in ancient tundra, where the soil was vigilanted with boiling stone, fighting with a lava sky, cursed leather wings, spiders, geysers of serpentine sulfur.