Текст песни Заготовка - Пропавший без вести

I go on the Alexandrovsky Garden
Sunset, beautiful evening over Moscow.
Suddenly the heart eke: perhaps this is a great-grandfather
Lies here under the Kremlin wall?

December for Moscow, Food, cold
No communication, no cartridges, no grenade;
Shinel does not warm, constant hunger,
That only Russian will withstand the soldiers.

From the platoon of communication there are three left:
He is the commander, and his two fighters.
And mortars beat, and with hell
Floating mini hearts!

In the snow, ice, they Clean the cliff,
To at least two tooth connect.
Earth, fire, terrible roar of the explosion!
Missing ... And it is not to forget.

And kids come to the eternal fire
And in the guard of the warriors stand ...
I suddenly thought: "How many in the world
The graves of missing soldiers. "