Текст песни Duka Roman - Прогоревшие дотла

I'm writing a bright noise
What is sitting in my head.
I'm writing, I'm breathing,
I'm looking for a balance:
Between good and evil,
Between death and eternity.
Sam'm a stranger,
And sometimes mutilated.
And I do not need them:
Those who granted us the power.
I shout from the lowlands
And any crown ladies
Those who hold it,
And with the utmost dignity
Through the years will carry,
But, perhaps, it is not necessary to you
Start this way,
If you are not sure,
And do not eat a peck of
Salts.
This creation
Under the name of "life"
Not for the military granted.
The truth is woven from
The thread of faith and the homeland -
From blazing down
Ideals and equality.
If fame -
So a chance once again equal to one hundred
Percent, and this,
Believe me, it is enough
For the end of the "doomsday"
To start the countdown again
Burned to the ground
His civilization.
Who does not believe the weak
And have burned alive.
And who is a strong soul,
He does not see obstacles.
Our life - a seam
Between heaven and hell ...