Текст песни Фёдоров Олег - Гусляр

Crescent squeezed Dotla
That he has managed to say the forest
From what he foliage boiled
And in the sky, bitter broom
The outlines of the horns of the bold
For her thin cases

How roads did not care
Many songs about Tom folded
Gives a remote revenge
Widow crying in the dawn rye

I wakes you princess brother
Cheyren in thoughts is not good in the word
Want to know this is your sunset
From the river fucking blood

Who needs yours, however, Husar
You do not see how happy people
Of course you and wise and old
Because you judge about life

But do not crack the gate
And with loops without tearing the souls
In the wild field is silent a horde
The wind herbs is dry dried

So the same old man
No fun of you
See how calm
Not a single threshold

And in the mockery ridges
Prince Gony Oversized in the neck
Our walls like steel hard
If you defend

Crescent squeezed Dotla
That he has managed to say the forest
From what he foliage boiled
And across the sky as zola dust.