Текст песни МявИкоРы - Смерть Воителя

Broad field, the oldest of our forest
Live hundreds of moon under the cover of heaven
Silver belt, light of a new moon.
Night bird weave for us dreams.
Through the shadows of the trees, the shiny of the night
Howl lonely from the wilderness sounds.

Aya drop on wool runs,
Perhaps this soul will fly away.
The temper of our harsh and claws are long,
Do not get used to to go with ruffled.
There, where the stars are visible,
My life will end with the new start.

But I do not want to die, jump out!
I looked cold all my life on the stars
But now I will become a star ...
I am with the wind and the foliage of noisy,
But I will not come back to your beloved ...

I cling to the land I'm dead grip,
The last minute was very brief
I draw a cold look at the stars
And with thought I fly away to them.