перевод текста песни №1) Overcast sky, frozen poultry, the long winters, short summers. Dismal landscape are inherited from the era, гасившей light sources. In the pipes of silence pulsed time, the echo of freedom correct iron. The heart is configured to forward the sounds of the nascent the Marseillaise. Silence the ether, obscure thoughts messengers of evil giants of oblivion,the But the goals are the messengers of anger, history again begins to move. New days relays memory, receiving information round the clock. We are in a maze of events and facts, the former idols becomes terribly. Time. The wind. Time. The wind. In the normal roar of cheering masses indistinguishable are left before the deadline Mercenaries death with a smile mutant and stepchildren of inevitable doom. Blown up the sky light a firework, but in the voice of the century - alarm notes. Specialists in dreams do not stop their work. Time. The wind. Time. The wind.
Posted on: Sun, 07 Dec 2014 01:38:02 +0000
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