Текст песни ВАНТУЗ - СВИНОФЕРМА

It would not have been difficult for me I never give up
For the goal I fight to the last
I hold a last effort not relying on help
And I quietly walk around the outstretched leg
Behind me laugh twist a finger at a temple
These people are not worthy of the nail or hair
Flat think sharply judge arguing nothing
As Egyptian slavery manageable scourge
A better life not give us not the army is not the king
It creates his own kind of God's chosen creature
Evil sits much higher penned law
We waving a pen with gilded balconies
Because beating drums and sounding steel pipes
For too long we have suffered much clenching teeth
Biting the reins pulled on itself the cart
In the summer of silence in the dust and in winter the snow ago

Re-election to the grave that the mummy would remain
Even dying Ulyanov does not want to say goodbye
But authorities musicians and poets for us
Instead, these bureaucrats are creating secrets
State secrets strategic plans
Nestle term crime cheats
And each trough at meal double bottom
And the impression that it is bottomless
Even shots and cries ugoroza for pigs
These pigs have produced growing children
And on the principle of less is hidden in the large nesting dolls
This farm is called the presidential family
Insatiable they are constantly all the little
Zhrite vyblyadki more and build up fat
We wasted money and nerves spent
Compensate with a vengeance elite canned

Sleep Central Europe Baiushki bye bye
In military konflita finding themselves on the edge
Ballistic missiles to our barn knocking NATO
And you do not pribednyatsya that do not live lavishly
You repay loans or will run?
It is not clear that this svinorylym answer
Will not run away shouting on Independence
Svinorylye hoof stir in an empty pocket
Right at the start of the army left many courts
And it seems not to be able to avoid trouble is now
In a corner and pounded elite stumped
Pig has heard the cry of an entire continent
Choose the long term or will die from the current
Tale kind that's only the end of the cruel
Well and if it is bad then it's not the end
Always difficulties chances stirred the creator

Not all the little and they pay little stealing gas
Not as it all is not enough but for the hour of reckoning