Текст песни Артём Козлов - Война не мамка

My father served in the infantry,
Through the fire and the smoke went.
In the hot southern front
There was a young signalman.
And for the homeland in a reply
He fought - not grieved,
Himself folded kupletik
And near Kerch sang:
 
Chorus:
We pull the strap to -syuda
War - not the nurse, it is - trouble
Here wrest, sunset feast
My son will be born, and there will be peace!
 
Survived Dad, I was born -
Guitarist and bully.
But in my life there was a
Burning Afgan.
Radio back bend,
The helmet's head swell.
Under Kabul sang
I landing Tale:
 
Chorus: same
 
Out of the whole of Afghanistan,
The son born to me.
And then their traps
Ponastavili Chechnya.
With pictures son with akameesom
Sends me hello,
And sings near Gudermes
Old grandfather verse.
 
Oh, Motherland - Russia
How could endure!
Dying you did not ask
But not all has kept.
What's son - almost kazhdyy-
That soldier, the commander.
You tell me, tell me, when did
Will this same world?