Текст песни RoxA - Сорок ракет

war on Donbass, headache
when it's over you will not understand ever
I was not in the trenches, but still very sad
Want to try?
Mmmm .. the taste of gunpowder is not at all tasty
The city of forty missiles, forty holes
forty wins, forty craters

where the hand is head
torn pieces not recognize ever
bloody mess going on in the field
tell me! how much more will the blood spilled ...
For no matter under what flag you city
just think in whose families brought grief
those mountains, which was razed to the ground shells
covering them all in the same hail
there is simply impossible to write briefly
and remember those mass graves under gusinetsami tanks
where everyone is trying to dig a hole to the enemy
and whose mother is sitting and she wipes a tear
over everything and come Bozhy Court
but for now only charred bodies are