Текст песни Андрей Климнюк - Перевалы

We lay on the pass - the pass will not leave!
Their lives are not sold for the & quot; healthy living & quot ;.
And Boney peddler did not hit on her hands,
So that our package will not handle it.

Chorus:
Spinning, spinning, spinning over the pass of death.
Trails weave lace from bullets, which did not survive.
Spinning, spinning, spinning death, collecting tribute.
The eyes are the frozen puddle, look in the Russian horizon.

Third day we wait for the water meter, under pressure famine and dry trees.
Half a cup of water for two, for two - a "school."
Zamkomvzvoda under a rock with incised throat wheezing,
With a hopeless anguish in the sky smoky looks.

Chorus.

The passes, the passes! That - Afghan and the - Chechnya.
We were chasing the halts without a native of Moscow suchnya.
And then we go on vacation in a galvanized coupe
And give us a medal as the mercy of the Kremlin Party.

Chorus.