Текст песни HURMA - Птушка

A bird
We believed, thought, dreamed that it would not happen to us.
And what they had, owned what, gave at stake.
And what will happen to us, in reality and in dreams, as we are those people
Which in armchairs, in cozy hotels chewed popcorn.
And what did we do when we loved, when we lost?
And breathed different air, let the wind in the wind.
If we are made of iron, then who have we been and become?
Maybe someday I will write everything on autumn leaves.

Outside the windows the world is outside
Give me freedom, give!

"It's you, it's you, it's your fault" -
I will hear afterwards like a rebuke or a stone.
The migratory bird flies to the States from the parental home.
What should I give her for that farewell song in return?

And how many we had with you, spoke at least by shouting or whispering?
And how many countries do we have left or at least cities?
Why do we destroy what we have and love?
And we leave without finding any traces.
Outside the windows the world is outside
Give me freedom, give!
"It's you, it's you, it's your fault" -
I will hear afterwards like a rebuke or a stone.
The migratory bird flies to the States from the parental home.
What should I give her for that farewell song in return?