Текст песни Марк Мерман - Смерть пьёт не из бокала...

Death drinks not from a glass - from a flask from a soldier's
Unscrew the cork famously, as the head rolls.
Springs and whispered - circles of hellish machine,
And the medicinal needles are ready in advance.

Here rolls into the fabric tightened
glade - far and wide
And the play is not tightened - it ends already.
As a failure-free gun, that one-act play
The smoke curtain is tricky and the curtain is already ...

And skulls on the shards,
teteri all lost
And on the margin of error on each side
And the brave generals are from infantry,
A whisper from the evil one - about desertion he!

And the sky, like harrows,
crows plow their wings
To rest in peace were heaven - Hooray, Hurray! - damage ...
Where are you, defeated? - on all four sides
Where are you, winners? - and there are no parties for you!

Drummers sweat, drums holed
And death will spin the cork, wait a little:
At the winter in the apartments will prompt banquet attendants
In the summer in the apartments swept the mole ...