Текст песни Мышеловка - Римляне

The author of the words: Peter Vegin

Music by: Lev Stepanov

We are Romans of decline.
Trying to pass death off as a farce
The state falls laughing
Like an acrobat from a wire.

All the bells fell silent
And we were betrayed to the fall,
Like birds that have been punished
By beheading the wing.

It's dark from falling birds
And bloody canzona,
And a daughter from his father's skull
Drinking newlywed wine.

Confess your own downfall
Don't pass it off as takeoff.
Let death come at least
On the sharp edge of revelation.

But Rome, he chose a terrible hour,
And this hour is uneven for us:
Crow's croaking in Nero
Rome is crumbling and suffocating us.

We are in a few minutes
Let's show the impotence of the child.
Its great wreckage
They do not allow to rise from the ground.