Текст песни Сплин - 12. Звери

No window, no flight, no door -
Only black dead night.
In it, forgetting about the future, tired animals sleep,
From everywhere gone away.

They don't want to think about the past
There are so many deaths in this past.
In this past - the coolness of the cells of the prison,
Yes, the melody of rusty chains.

They don't want to know where their roots are
Their hope is far from trouble
Their freedom is to flee the chase all the time,
Covering your tracks on the run.

The animals are looking at the sad sky
All trying to see the sky's edge.
And for dinner they have a slice of stale bread,
Yes, tea covered with tina.

Tell me what your grief is about
I will take your pain as mine.
It's a pity that everyone else fled to their holes,
Leaving us at the very edge.

Sing me a song about the cross and about the dome
About the hope and faith of all faiths.
And love is a cage. I'm five cornered
Like a helpless wounded beast.

And no window, no span, no door ...