Текст песни Абвиотура - Вороны

On a crow of crows
The axes were sharpened
All four sides
Troubled baptized
Razhigalsya razisto
Tornado of black grays
The people are robber
In the forests collecting

Beards are disheveled
I drank my eyes to drunk
Got up by the roadside
Wait for night
On cudgels sick
Oak groves were harvested
Fair and free
There is no government for them

Hilarious Hangman
On a dry aspen
He sang dancing and soon wilted
From the strain blue
Muzhichki severe
Scratched the nape
Thoughts are unhealthy
Il at the bottom of the bottle