Текст песни Rem Diga - На Юг
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My fire is not extinguished, he is inside. With him I go into the darkness full of them. There is forward, where menacing look. The sky stretch thin, diseased crowns of willows. My path is far, in the steppe of evil and gloomy way. My rap - gift wrapped and his best darkness. He sat himself forward fist above his head. We all sign. I'm not the will, unhappy son of a bitch. On the battlefield, missing hooks in the soup. Pretty sick, who was scared of you ??? But I pru as an ox, and they rod, as fairies. According to the fields in boots, past the NIF and minutes. We - they are shooting is one. Cif descended into the hole, the world flies. I take a sword and shield, I want to live and be. Exit the caravan into the darkness, there are black willow, black, horror, darkness. There the river of the dead fish, dead birds, dead nat. But I will - know Couple of contention, like ivy, like an octopus. If you will turn, do not understand me. Native do not worry, do not call, do not forget. Yeah, there dissolve away in the smoke. Exit the caravan to the south, goes into the darkness, each took his dream, she warmed to it in hell. But my pain is - a forgotten dream, runaway into the chamber cartridge. Those who encroached on my house, will be buried in it. Exit the caravan to the south, where the tree blankets given, as a gift. Where the demons in the war fighting everything. Red-hot barrels in the tank. Vit and beat - this is my instinct, if the world is like the ring if it is in the blood. Behind my house, there's my angel sleeps, opened his mouth to them bitch? No problem, catch! Exit the caravan to the south, early in the morning. In the hands hold love silent. I just can not breathe. I touch the strands stinging hand. Just stroking her best. But the demons have seen here in the river. Again, collect the men. Exit the caravan to the south, can not be packed to unload. Lead tears etched on the pulse. Tears very different tastes. I am going in the way, like everyone else. With him I have five minutes, as the villages. And in the hands I hold, waiting for the dawn. Fragments of the past come to me. On the green meadows in the grass. I kissed his knees, burned. Free as the wind with these steppes. Oh, if I knew about the war bitch. What puffed native fields. You scream, see the fields are burning. But I swear to you. Who stepped sword native here. He did so in vain. Exit the caravan to the south, far horizon filled with blood. The smell of sweat, there is gunpowder, liquor, smell of burned cannabis. Dirty paws walk into my house. Unceremoniously vile scumbag. Time to show his fangs. Who here dads-queen who don. Laid polusfers, blew all. Small success. But we unnecessary burden dves-minute. Next, the path into the woods. Demons out there, beyond the river. The views of catches under the visor. Caravan alive? Native land of nod. Who am I without these fields? Well, who am I without these fields, tell me. Groans, those in the fire and I just burn them. Someone without this hair? Who without these hands I, my kinsmen ??? During their lives, ready to die. My homeland, my dear, good land. My Homeland, you are one with me. Homeland, be patient! Motherland. My Homeland, one you have me ...
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