Текст песни BezNika - Скатертью дорога

That day I stood on the wagons - the cold of Siberia
Almost hellish frost, degrees Celsius - 664
Stood with a rifle on the advantage, waited for the arrival of the convoy
For my efforts, believed that - the fee is clearly tripled

How suddenly the legs of my fell, frozen brutal
He frowned and sobbed to be returned to Bhutan
I almost read me Koran, but the snot was prevented
There is no fry, not a warrior, but a bass gopnik

They say he passed here, and fought in the final
They say on the stick turns as if Beckham Fints
But this time a man was declared on Battle, Astalavista
Spring romances go strictly fuck, forgive Mr.

Some nervously crying on the sidelines, - unpinal homeless
I headed Panchami so that in the car - a fire
I'm not sorry, bodia leaves the station, here is my hand
Favorita Batla from me - Bombana Puned

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Tablecloth road, who are you? I'm not deliberate
Your track on Batle, it is incest Gerda and Kay
Proudly, you can say that you are cooler
Then boldly sow in the dung pile

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