Текст песни Электрические Партизаны - Отчизна

TV viewer, get
For brains night enema
And trustingly silently
In the refracting prism.
You're accustomed to consume
Populism kilograms,
For your back again
Dark silhouette of fascism.

Fall, man in the street!
You are sickly for the soul
But, buddy,
The depreciation rolls to fascism!

In the store vodka is,
There is enough of it yet
And how good in the morning,
That illusions do not melt
And the one who thinks wrong
Whose dream of another color
That all spoils - this is the enemy,
You are ready to kill for it!
Who works, that slave
Who steals, that owner
For whom you are now,
A resident of urban colors?!

Hey, wake up, it's time to run
From prisons of teleetatism.
But if you get up with your knees -
Not a fascism shit.

Fall, man in the street!
You are sickly for the soul
But, buddy,
The depreciation rolls to fascism!