Lyrics Сергей Калугин - Побег

Years of black chariots,
Years of the Red Pogrom.
Crawls away with sarcoma
The Mist of Egyptian Tombs

Like a cry in a delirious dream
Above the sick country it reays
Color of prorotovyh arteries -
Color justified completely.

Torn time weed
And thrown back to the century,
In the Throne of the Crown
The deity is a deity.

But selected in its turn
For the Siberian slaughter,
I'm in a deadening consciousness
Time began the countdown.

For the escorted convoy
I stepped into the delirium of delirium,
Flakes of hoarse breathing
Leaving behind.

Observed in the posts
Machine-gun artels.
Bullets thinly waxed,
They hit the ground in two steps.

The sky was clutched with an eye,
I ran, slipped and fell,
Above the stream lay like carrion
With a broken backbone.

The melted snow melt
In the bloodless palms,
Behind the clang, the chase,
I raised the seine.

I was ravaged by the rain
And wheezing as in hand-to-hand,
The beast is gloomy and terrible
I wandered through the windbreak.

The land was reclaimed,
I gnashed my teeth into the clay,
Three stupid blows in the back
Not feeling first.

And squealing with enthusiasm,
Tearing off the flesh,
Like a bullet at the flight
The soul has gone to the ricochet.

Crawled voices.
Rust off the grass, I squeezed to the moan,
So that the earth steep slope
Do not fall into the sky.

But the blow of the boot
Turned on his back,
Hands stretched out in the sides
Like the cross.

And twisting his dented mouth,
The hound took me by the feet,
Wing back like a drogue,
It's like a reverse plow.

My head thumped headlong
O strained roots,
Jaw clucked submissively,
Herbs crawled from her mouth.

Like a black widow
I stuck to my shit
On a pea coat from blood sticky
Last year's foliage.

In a gelatinous bowl of the eye
It was a cloudy sky ...
I left as if I were not,
I'm free ... Bright hour.