Текст песни Вадим Фомин - огни святого Эльма

Pray to the intercessors, be afraid of death, tall donated answers
Grow obstacles, fucked solid, here are stones, lattices, mortar and celma
But we are not a place here, we are waiting for the sump, the waves of the sea and the northern fresh wind
We are waiting for the unknown and light of hope, burning fires of St. Elma

Fear to forget and stupid, love everything that owns you
live as needed, and we leave - it's better in the punch than to live aimlessly
Better toy in the hands of the elements, driven by stars and winds
on all sails, and let luck luck with the lights of the Holy Elma

Keep the foundations of your morality, submracts her word for word
call the uniform picture of the world all that consider blind belma
And we leave your peace coast before the storm ... give the mooring
And if you perceive, let our souls get lit by the lights of St. Elma