Текст песни Жека Басотский - На Донбасс

Father, I'm sorry, I'm going to the Donbass. There are a lot of us here who don’t know. Dad, don’t get your guilt. If I don’t come back from this war. (2) Demons messed us up with our brotherly people. I slightly dropped the story, the script of the old play, Orange Revolutions, a deletion of power Deceived people, hope for happiness for everyone From behind the hill, puppeteers dance around Preparing crusades to Russia And split the case as if with an ax It’s a bad thing, two barbaros are signed And let them come, the old commander laugh I didn’t take apart the assault rifles, I don’t wear a uniform place that small, you better go to my mother I apologize, but only on a Khokhlyat tank I agree, officer, a humorist I’m not so happy I would like to leave, I’m so merging with the night We can’t offend to give a naive beautiful Come on for our men, let's for Russia Father, I'm sorry, I’m going to the Donbass. There are a lot of us here who don’t know. Dad, don’t get your guilt if I don’t come back from this war. (2) Kharkiv, Maripol and Odessa. Mom. We know that you are stubbornly with us for our homeland. We know that you are here and you don’t know much. But you hold on, help will come soon Tomorrow battle, the brother of Banderavets’s knees cracking on a knife cracking against the wall One trouble is, the CIS gathered quickly For the old man who cleaned the land from the Nazis And you from where the guys of Tuvarba Starkastan Sufferelic Chichen, distant Tatarstan But we are all from Russia, our beloved woman Antokha from the Tverskaya region, I’m here from the Smolensk region. Well, let's brothers brew some tea. The officer isn’t sleeping, we will play guitar We will sing about the guys who will fall, We will sing about the girls who are waiting for us Father forgive me, I’m going to Donbass There are a lot of us here who don’t pass Know dad no nikapil Ki of your guilt If suddenly I do not come back from this war (2) And now our time has come, we go friends we go For everything we lived for, what we are waiting for And everyone was thinking about his own, I'm talking about spring And that the road to it lies through Let’s defend the war. We boldly give birth to birch trees. Let blood shed, let tears shed. For that orphan who was silent to me in response, As if she weren’t eight, but a lot of bitter bodies Along broken roads, devastated villages We walked along the stars to the east, the companion led me I lagged, I lost my shelter, I carried a bullet in my chest, I kept repeating to him Throw me, bro go! Eh Novorossia, the sad edges Your land became our grave. Somewhere near Lugansk we were covered with hail. We only managed to understand what is called hell. Bronze manument somewhere in the far distance He holds a child and a sword in his other hand Read people the memory of a man, Brother Silently stand by an unknown I'm sorry, I’m going to the Donbass. There are a lot of us here who don’t know. Dad. No.