Текст песни Коктейльное дело - Демократичная

There is no conscience, no honor,
Not survive without killing.
Enough to mark time in the same place,
The walls are not broken, without breaking the head off.

Plants are, the power of sale,
Oil smells blood, rust metal,
What still remains for me?
Not a country I imagined.

There is no pity, no tears,
Not getting rich is not stolen,
Human destiny derailed
Putin takes part.

And I suddenly became superfluous and therefore have
Without an invitation to come to their ball.
What still remains for me?
I do not imagine such a fate I chose!

Ex .: In your home country
There is no place for you!
Freedom is not the price,
Monarhodemokratiya!

There are no laws, there are no barriers.
The steeper character - the more right.
Here the enemy sibling brother.
This Qur'an whom the Charter

Dictates the rules. Let pours
River of blood, the metal rings.
What still remains for me?
Not so I imagined it!

Ex .: In your home country
There is no place for you!
Freedom is not the price,
Monarhodemokratiya!