Текст песни Андрей Земсков - Утро Судного Дня

That was the spicy rye malt,
Geese and swans dance does not weave,
Bogomaz-October, gold color
dome of the Church so your scythe.

Bitter sky smoke al rowan color.
I whisk the dew on your way,
Under the reins to you fail dawn
Podsazheny you and whisper: "Fly!".

Rodnikovy key razomknёt mouth
And hit in the chest is not good news.
On the feast of plague only death is red:
Broken strings - Got Game as is.

How to fool us, destroying walls forehead,
Incinerate cords bursting hearts?
Won in the arms of the body went soul
Like the altar - a blind man lead ..!

Krugloliky bread on the table already,
Image in the corner, cleanliness, comfort.
Only the guests - a void in the soul:
Whether they are celebrating, or idly drinking ...

If God - love, in the Day of Judgment
Who among us sinners you judge?
Braided plait put on a veil so.
I'm going with you, here is my hand.

October 5, 1991.