Lyrics М. Щербаков, М. Стародубцев - Волк

You are a black wolf. At the proper hour will remember about you
hell. In the meantime, get used to pick up Tarzanyu
Wool, do not listen to letters, believe in tangent.
Fire, halo, ocean - all this to you.
In a storm, a proper course is not once by bisany
The dead Dutchman will show you.

You will defeat the captivity, and the hills will stand before you.
But, on the hills, without learning Jerusalem,
So you will pass through the gate, just not by,
to the temple, where just at this hour rainbow-ribbons
The motley stained glass window itself, without pressure,
It will sprinkle and shake the sparkles over you.

You can't understand letters. But the dictionary will also squeeze you
to your house of orphans, in a crowd of even and odd
chapters. Slander personal affairs, gloomy approaching
To match the slander of the fables about you.
Flesh of unknown, innocent animals
From childhood, it will plug in your teeth.

Debt payment - there, at the end. It's not joking.
Fire to letters, an orphan, a hryvnia and a Christmas tree.
There is pale mediocrity, whether the wolf is black -
I will give them right. I will not overpaid it in any way.
Everyone from that stained glass.
Squealing, ridiculous. But I so want.

I am a black wolf. There is no one who would help
I can’t stop this speech in half a word.