Текст песни Ворон Кутха - Крик ворон

Blad youth Singing old age
Imparable rubbish Slying sand
Ori or Ori, and from the Word remained
Only eggs into cool drunk in vice
Holy Fathers of the Torn Church
For a comfortable posture will be sent to your arrival
In muddy water in lead boots
She is not visible and there is no end, your turn.

Creek Voron
Above head
Where is he
He who always walked next to you
Remember
Light cloud in the sky forgotching
Pray
For our black days
For all we sang in these black days ...

Wounded under root, chipped acid
Playing on the verge, followed by only the moon
Lost Skete Mountain
Sorry fee for the music of the bottom
And now all one thing is there post or holiday
We do not guess, be that there will be amen
Third-party witness on his own execution
And again one. Caught again one?