Текст песни Артём Козлов - Война не мамка

My father served in the infantry,
Through the fire and the smoke went.
Warm southern front
There was a young signalman.
And for the Motherland in a reply
He fought - not grieve,
Himself folded kupletik
And in the Kerch sang:
 
Chorus:
We pull the strap to -syuda
The war - not the nurse, she - trouble
Here wrest sunset feast
My son will be born and the world!
 
Survived Dad, I was born -
Guitarist and bully.
But there was my destiny
Burning Afgan.
Radio back bend,
The helmet's head swell.
Under Kabul echoed
I landing Tale:
 
Chorus: same
 
Out of the whole of Afghanistan,
The son was born to me.
And then his traps
Ponastavili Chechnya.
With pictures son with akameesom
Sends me hello,
And sings near Gudermes
Old grandfather verse.
 
Oh, Motherland - Russia
How could suffer!
You did not ask to die
But not all has kept.
That is not the son - almost kazhdyy-
That soldier, the commander.
You tell me, tell me, when did
Will this same world?