Carrying, burying.
Carrying, burying, parents are crying.
Stabbed in the middle of the night
hands broken, cutted with the knife
Skinhead tortured, but he didn't bury noone.
No he didn't bury noone
He luaghed looking in the eyes of death
There'll be a day, the spring will come here
There'll be a revange
My dear russia, my russian land.
I've died too soon, sorry for leave you.
Died, didn't love you as I should
I'm a skinhead, caucasians killed me.
When the last dirty snow has gone.
When the birches's leaf-buds has grown.
2 hundrad man came to the market
bold-haired, with bats and chains.
Blood to blood, death to death.
People uprised, simple russian people.
Fired, killed thousands of scum.
And also their kids, wifes.
Now it's my turn to pass away
Now it's your turn for revange
Now it's my turn to pass away
Now it's your turn for revange
(2-x)