Текст песни KoSS - Посмертно герой

Sky, sky, look into our eyes and tell us how much more we should wait
How much did the cuckoo sing to us, we are not children, but the war is not a toy
Lupyat of guns, and we squint in response, there are no Russians? There are no hailstones either?
What kind of nonsense and how much you can lie, the earth is tired of the corpses already taking
And yesterday mother, crying very loudly, her son was brought a funeral
And the funnel, the soul will leave a trace on the soul, Satan will continue to rule the point
And Sashok .... was a great kid, like everyone else with his own chip
Good-bye brother, so many friends have come, to say goodbye to you, but how much is the Mausoleum
Let's pour, pull the knitting needles out of my back, for a long time, these faces will be dreaming
Like birds, a wedge flew across the sky, so into eternity, the names of the guys fly
Who is to blame? -the historian will be asked at school, for the war that brought in the house
Will open a book and there, an empty graph, and not a line, and no stroke of the pen
Hey, Comrade President ... there's blood on you, this cross on you
Enough gestures for us, enough for us applications, how many more, will there be waves of mobilization?
And your son is yours, you are sitting rubbing an armchair, you have provided a sheltered place
Probably cool, to be the president's son, and to the war, to look like a film
And we, the NKVD, the guardhouse, and clean up, the remnants of the guys from the mine
I thought we were family and under one roof, but it turned out the deck had gnawed on the mouse
I was so tired, and did not want to write the lyrics, but inside, tore up the protests
These tests are needed at such a cost, when you are called a hero posthumously!