Fresh Dug Tombs
5:45 48 4 9 лет
Loading has occurred in the ground to pulp of a decay On a devastation of heart send away few minutes There was I in oblivion people of the storming sea Became a part of system and a part of a planet as a whole To close the person a mask, to be dissolved in crowd To get the automatic device and to not count new parishioners of a mortuary Sons of the ground, children of the sky, employees of system That system which has made me a gear Burn, flare Despair and heat Die, suffer Fear and fear away from eyes The soldier's pain will not cease in the course of time and I shall press as always on cocking piece I lost for the country of friends and native, now the screw is twirled, to kill all and in rear Bullets fly opening the way in the world dead Not only that of whom has not noted a decay their god I shall be forgotten through time empty Pressing of a finger, explosion, my last flight The screw is twirled, bearings turn to me it is pleasant Ideas on a platoon and a carbine too, someone today will die The fresh dug tombs sing to me songs and ask When I shall present them of a body? They so a long time ask