Текст песни finnvey - уходя

And soul into fragments,
And the tears into the stream.
Hands not derzhala-
Now you're nobody.
Do not cast,
Do not throw,
The case has been shipped.
You will leave me,
Media crowns.
Crowns made of brass,
Crowns made of paper,
With light hand
They were broken in the fight,
In the fight for freedom,
In the fight for the idea,
Where long prism
kiss from Medea,
As well as walking
By sea Crazy
And the Minotaur horn
At the heart of the patient.

You are my hero,
Not acquainted with Fame
And the bitter honey
And the sweet poison.
From mortal obid-
The herb tea you
The pain - daisy
Boredom - Train
From the ancient elders,
What was wrong,
When even former youths fled
edge of the sweet
in search of glory.
The answer is not found
returned back
And life is not sweet to them,
And happiness is disgusting.
Have you ever young,
And you're always proud.
Love - not available,
Winds - not submissive.
But my song
 preserve in your heart -
Perhaps it will help
Once warm.