Текст песни мира - Выхода нет

Incomprehensible chills overtakes with the thought of
What we have not seen an unearthly number of years.
I am the archives of the soul with a voloy with unbearable labor,
And they, as if stones, be tilted to the ground.

How are you there and whom you walk through the nights home
(into the world where wind will be treated and the sad lamp flashes),
Before the access steps, going upstairs by the curve ...

I'm sorry for me one -
I'm not sorry for the world.

You became the other, and I, as before, afraid of novelty,
As before, I am bait for thousands of troubles.
We - the snow of last year's cold spring.
And Vasilyev really is that there is no way out.