Текст песни Дядя Го - Вальс

When our dark basement turned into the bank,
We began to climb the roof and jump from there.
And one who was confident was in the hardness of the sky, took off,
And the one who did not believe, falling, turned into dishes.

Yes, one of us chilly in the sky is a tired rifle,
And one of us is a fertilizer for tomorrow's shoots.
Yes, one of us traded by predestly fire,
And one of us did not return from long marching.

Some of us did not want to go down the stars
According to this, meaningless, though reliable, ropes.
We know that the birds sometimes fall out of the nests,
But someone from us still chose the feathers of the feathel.