Текст песни На Север - На сотню лет

For a hundred years I crawl out of the ground
Dance with prickly winds
Through the cities of weave the fire of fate,
Clean the face with cold bayonets.

Shadows spends silent look
Life through dreams, reflection curves.
Snow removes all the way back
Mad streets, ice - my salvation!

Winter keeps the rest of the past
Not my and joy, and resentment ...
Night washed off the fear of the smell of people
Alone leaving the sleeping world.

Waitable trepid branches,
Through the void, without knowing about the time
Try towards the blades of stones
Wave go to meet the collections!