Текст песни Лора Бочарова - Песня де Тревиля

Swords naked, nobles!
Dust Paris is dust.
Everywhere blood on Lille fabric
On Provence lace.

If he gave you the swords,
How can i stop
Metal flying into the chest
Bloodshed
Bloodshed?

Duelists, bullies!
You crossed the blades again.
You fight for a fight
For the sake of laughter, pour blood.

And when the dying scream
Trembling like a bird
Your conscience for a moment
Won't wake up
Do not wake up!

Though for the throne on the military field
This is not the first time you have shed blood
But her far more
On the Paris pavement!

If he gave you the swords,
How can i stop
Metal flying into the chest
Bloodshed
Bloodshed?