Помолчим немного [Pomolchim nemnogo] [English translation]

My dear, indescribably wonderful, beloved city, I've been hit.

Time to pay my debts, I have to pay them all hundredfold.

And the empty cars of my best friends in the world,

Are standing motionless near the doors of familiar houses.

None of them will run out towards me,

I stand looking at these windows from outside.

I'm crushed, defeated, I'm crippled

And I don't dream, as if I've been forbidden from dreaming.

As if everything we used to love, disappeared long ago,

And the only thing that remains is the words we said.

As if God had planned to make me out of iron,

But for some reason there is dried grass inside.

Get dressed, let's go, this place stinks of burnt things,

Move out your charred armies.

We have made such a mess of things here

That clouds thicken out of horror.

We used to part ways with a victorious song,

But now let's be quieter and more prudent,

And, under this most wonderful constellation,

Let's keep quiet for a while...

• Artist:Splean
• Album:Резонанс. Часть 1