Текст песни БанДеролЬ - Письмо

With a flock of birds, words rushed into the sky
And it is in response - rain, snow ...
Make butter with bread soon
I'm behind the cursed enemy.

Brew me rock and roll mom
And send in a letter, so as not to cool.
Here the dirty dollar rules the war
From there, the rules are simple.

Here, neighbors have long been - past and fiction,
And life and death divide the shirt.
Here, guys like butter and bread,
Only a sniper forbade to want.

I'm tired of shooting words into the sky
I'm tired of asking poetry from the stars
I want you like butter for bread
From the edges of cheap cigarettes.