Текст песни Александр Харьков - В стране расколотого льда

In the country of split ice,
On the blade of a cold razor
We sometimes forget,
In his coolness "Nowhere"
We read old prayers

And between the palms melts ice,
But there is so much on trouble
That the heart seems to let
Yes, and prayer will not reach
Before the waiting of God.

Only in the sky will be sacrificed
Devoid of love under the layer of ice,
And we, breath, standing on the edge,
Heat wormwood.

And ice mills
They want to destroy the latter.
But something is growing hardly,
Mixing losing rights
At the lost soul.

Crusting frozen trouble,
But, or vodka, or Prana,
Nallet unknown there
In the country of split ice
On the bottom of a huge glass