Молодые ветра

Pride of full cars
Gold epaulets
From the south blow
Young a wind
Breaking in cloud shreds
Have not forgotten, send from apart
With the house, mum
And not last love

And on the sky run
You see, someone's traces
It, maybe, you
It, maybe, I
It, can, for us wait
It, can, to us sing
Yours

He met his match
There is a war for memory of years
He met his match
There is a war for memory of years
He met his match
There is a war for memory of years
He met his match
There is a war for memory of years

Pleasure full feasts
And bows to the ground we will rise
And for all we will keep silent
Month is full, the world is unsteady
Language, feet are braided
Let's recollect, we will tell
The brother to the brother proper words

And on the sky run
You see, someone's traces
It, maybe, you
It, maybe, I
It, can, for us wait
It, can, to us sing
The

He met his match
There is a war for memory of years
He met his match
There is a war for memory of years
He met his match
There is a war for memory of years
He met his match
There is a war for memory of years

He met his match
There is a war for memory of years
He met his match
There is a war...

From the south full cars
Gold epaulets
It is proud blow
Young a wind