Текст песни Зазеркалье - Письмо

I am sending a letter to children at will,
 About soldier's brother, I share writing,
 As a cold winter boy, Kolya,
 The Caucasian mountains, was killed on duty.

Houses for tolstozhopye musicians play,
 What the West are ready to sell your own mother,
 All walk and drink, and the boy dies
 Because he is not able to bring home.

They say: "For you are vile prostrelyanny bullet,
 Proudly he took death and not flinch an eyebrow "
 But you remain in the pub to the limit,
 With peace of mind to guzzle his blood.

You live like those greedy bastards,
 What's in the newspapers bring confusion into our house,
 The guy gave life, and if they are happy
 What about him at night, secretly crying mother.