Текст песни Волчок - Если солома загорелась, то она высохла

And high-spirited chorus of ridicule
They sound like bells ringing.
Here the guiding ended
Everything is here by the clock
And that cold and that heat of the steppes,
Which will lead to a fire.

We desired the death of our worst enemy that was closer than our brother yesterday.
As little children frolic by the fire of a burning match,
So we lost our heads that evening from our thoughts,
In the neighborhood, everyone is to blame except himself.
Drunk with malice, I sought, in an effort, her most faithful dogs.
I did not understand that I myself had been in that pack for a long time.