Текст песни ПИЛИГРИМЫ - Ангелы смерти

Blown morning city,
The city has no face,
Dead birds learn to wait.
We get to the end,
We are strangers in their own land,
We do not like to fear us.
We are ready, a cartridge in the barrel,
God will not give one betrays.

We are the angels of death,
Between good and evil,
We are the angels of death,
On the razor's edge going under fire.

No one back home would not return,
Crying old mother.
Every second a hero
We can not retreat.
We are strangers in their own land,
We do not like to fear us.
We are ready, a cartridge in the barrel,
God will not give one betrays.

We are the angels of death,
Between good and evil,
We are the angels of death,
On the razor's edge going under fire.