Текст песни Сергей Бабкин - Бога

My field unfounded
land was not plowed
life has not yet been consummated
Yes edges full of fear

lightning sharp blade
people with blood mixed
on a desert island
koschei roam with leshimi

My faith is not broken
secrets melt with incense
my soul does not get fed
vultures instead of falling

shore boats molyatstsa
death of a purely personal matter
whether all the locks tunes
open keys violin

cloud over the crossing
Peploe so much soot in
took VOSTRIKOV youths
choir sang the sermon

videtso clean clean
from far away but in the twilight
on a wooden jetty
derzhutsya people 's hands.