Текст песни Михаил Калинкин - Мужик в пилотской форме

There are those who feed with promises,
There are those who like to stomp tsatskimi,
And there’s a simple man in a pilot uniform,
I’m used to answering for my homeland.

Who knows the price of this life
Where there are no holidays or weekends
Living in the crosshairs of sights
Alien enemies and their difficulties.

He is at the helm in every plane,
He did not know how to exchange honor for ranks.
He has the only drug -
Always be on the line of fire.

In which the fragments hit with hail,
And failure made horns
Whose favorite reward is
In his own way, achieve victory.

I know everything will be fine guys
And the Russian land will live,
As long as men in uniform
The steering wheel compresses our steering wheel.