Текст песни Вадим Фомин - памятники мертворожденным

all colors sometimes merge in red
feelings stacked
the world teaches us distrust, anger
leaving only crumbs from freedom

it's our lives slowly fading away
in the hopelessness of the laid tracks
it's fun crunch our bones
under the wheels of a bygone era

these are monuments to the stillborn
either with marked fire or with a whip
one-sided one-dimensional picture
scattered on dusty paving stones

we will stay with the last cartridge
to colt / stechkin / peemu / beret
hey merchant! selling my soul
for four kilograms of explosives