Текст песни ПЛОЩАДЬ ВОССТАНИЯ - Потоп

Forty days dragged on for three hundred years
The city sinking ship
You fell five million ticket
Open your eyes but do not see the light

You fell five million ticket
Starting life outcast in his native land
To begin enthusiastically search for the answer
Knowing the answer is no

No golden sand underfoot
The sun at its zenith has cold nostrils
Forgotten sky spitting snow
The last drop of patience frozen

No seed in the ground with blood unwashed
Out of the wind field odorless fell
Like the song, and the bread and were filled
Yes, the reward was not like us

And it would be easier to find your home
Unclench fists and breathe vapor
But my ancestors were talking about
That life is a great gift