Текст песни Троллинг Стоунс - Реггей по Боромиру

Wind winds you mighty
You obedient flocks of Tuchse
You carry over the fields
The smell fell swearing

Mock over the world
And parish in the sky sire
Give me a response, winds.
What happened to Boromir?

I am chib to smart wind of the northern edge
Where does not grow and not banana not papaya
Where in the tundra the snow is always in winter and summer
And in the warmth of the man of man waiting for breaking

My question wondered on dogs
But all the answer did not find him however
I'll throw everything from the end to the beginning
But Boromir did not see, did not see.

And I am a great and mighty south wind
I Nabu Nabu and I know everything in the world
My forests are all immense-notice
Only on the trees deftly zazyat haraffers

I listened to the music of Shamansky Tama
And I looked into the mouth of the hypoposamas.
But if only savages did not eat it
Then boromir is not in my limit

And I am a nasty wind of the Western world
And do not believe, I saw Boromir
Lay so quiet this nice boy
He horn swung kept in his handms

Elegant sewer hugged tight shoulders
And next to him lay his favorite mark
And he lay so calm, cute, proud
But he was blue - because the dead.