Текст песни Принцесса Бурунди - Хлеба тяжки

Let's not rush
  Yes, we will not drink and eat.
  All that is left is the scope
  Yes old ravines
  Bitten evil louse
  Don’t jump to the sun
  Rye was scratching her back with slanting clouds
  Heavy bread
  Slurping us this dregs
  Don’t get the horse back tired
  Sleeve do not wrap
  Yes, I wouldn’t scold
  Bows to the crowns
  And then the cheekbones do not shrink
  Fire from all sides
  Steppe native smokes
  The earth will repent, and with all its guts will fall in love with you
  The poplar trembled gave birth to the gallows bent
  Swaddling diapers from a loop
  Eyeballs three not three
  Spit on your son rub
  Pounded on a tree
  Going to christening
  And the wolves bent their withers
  Only decorously licked
  They knitted a bitch with a staff, but there’s no arguing with her
  Aki walked dry to a deserted outskirts
  She can’t split the bread
  A vodka know a lot of fun
  Her throats would only be angry
  The field is redone by posts
  And do not go into the ford
  One way all the way
  And the guests are all in wool
  The One Faithful Intercessor
  Hands would not forget how life can be in the morning
  How will you be full of stone
  And that is not a woman farmer
  Like sweat from my face all year
  From orphans only cares callous
  Winding people around on a mustache and combing them secretly
  They didn’t believe, but don’t ask anymore.
  Respected measured another's soul a plow
  Then we’ll collect what is undernourished
  If only so much b
  And shut up but before time
  Yes name and winters from hour to hour can’t wait
  And with our eyes in the back everything is fooling and getting ashy
  Yes, with a song so audible
  People are not drinking and not sleeping
  You look, there is not enough strength for her to share the valley of the coast
  And in the morning there is a lump in my throat
  Ile barefoot for no reason
  As if boiled with sleep or demon dehydrated
  And growing prematurely to a beveled spike
  What is thrown among the field
  Well the scythe is hunched over it
  What I wanted to tell the field, I threw words into the dust
  What he sang is warmed up and who burned down and someone became blind