Текст песни ИВАН КУЧИН - 06. Белый лебедь

I am writing to you, mother, from the depths of Tsilikana,
Where is the end of all hope, and roads dead end.
Where the moon is the law of the forbidden area mom
Pokot hour in the sky on a bayonet.

And in the cold barracks, the chain rattles on the used for treating,
We are the soldiers kicked, thrown out into the yard.
So I rasspisalsya from your mother refused,
And publicly admitted that I am no longer a thief.

With this life Blato, I know the fate,
My father fervor stabbed another in the Bitch war.
For the case a thief, and for the fate of the human mother
It may soon have to put life and I ...

My soul to the sky take white swan,
And bury me, will not find a trace.
Well to know the fate of this, you're just dear mother,
What your son does not return much to you never.