Текст песни N.R.M. - Бывай

Bends down low sky,
He bends down to smell the gray rain.
The coming morning smells of smoke and bread,
The coming morning smells strange power.

Farewell, my native land!
Farewell, my hometown!
Farewell, my ugly brother!
Farewell, beloved enemy!

We were shaking swing in the fire burned down,
We were shaking swing from trees to the ground
We looked in the mirror and did not know where we are,
Which parallels on which vehicles.

Farewell, my native land!
Farewell, my hometown!
Farewell, my ugly brother!
Farewell, beloved enemy!

My last trolley will travel along the avenue,
Zagrohochut my poshni tram at night,
a couple of centuries will pass before the next meeting,
It will take place a couple of centuries, and yet good-bye!

Farewell, my native land!
Farewell, my hometown!
Farewell, my brother drybki!
Farewell, beloved enemy!