Текст песни Владимир Высоцкий - Высота

They clung to the height, as in their own.
The mortar fire, the squall ...
And we all climbed the crowd on it,
As on the buffet station.

And screams "cheers" froze in the mouth,
When we swallowed bullets.
Seven times we occupied that height -
Seven times we left it.

And again, everyone does not want to attack,
The Earth is like a burning porridge ...
In the eighth time we will take it for good -
Our take, our blood, ours!

And it can bypass it, -
And that we are attached to it ?!
But, it is clear, for sure - all destiny-ways
They crossed on this skyscraper.