Текст песни Зарин - Навстречу Пулям

I closed my eyes toward bursting through the cold bullets
Snow crunched on the water, not had time to cool down ,
Hundreds of eyes in a single body, without other adaptations,
Shackled genuine hope , unnatural .

They profaned, dismantled , thrown out of the window
My old , native head of silver.
Dirty pastoralists, laborers priests
The heads are cut off in soaped collar.

Sleepers made ​​of concrete crumbled in a dirty dream .
From under the rubble looked yellow grass .
The rails are still stamped on his humble place,
Leaves tired of watching from the sidelines.