Текст песни Археология - Харон

Corns and holes in the dirty palms
Peace and oblivion in a dead river
Curling up in a ball like stray cat
Pensive little boy sitting on the sand

Soul aches with longing and sadness
And the look in his eyes
Directed to the skies
In the old, not the people driven berth
The child cries out for strange voice

Once he was independent and bright
Cruise and free night and day
But children are always carefree as children
He violated the border and was doomed

Tear off the wings, tied hands
And every night repeated dream
In the dead of the river,
Where no wind, no sound
Sitting exhausted boy Haron