Текст песни многоточие борцы за свободу
Обновлено: 23.11.2024
Кто-то пишет темы, как очевидец процесса жизни,
А кто-то, как ее участник.
Кто-то использует факты, а не мифы,
А кто-то старинных легенд заложник.
Кому-то интересно познать большего,
А кому-то жизнь уже дала сполна.
Кто-то ищет среди всех лучшего,
А кто-то хочет стать лучшим,
Потому что жизнь у него только одна.
Кому-то нужны наставники для достижения цели,
А кому-то приходится этой целью быть.
Другие всегда делали то, что умели,
А кому-то во всей этой каше плыть.
Один не может забыть вчерашнее,
Другому капает на сердце с десяток лет.
И чувствуешь, что делал все это напрасно,
Ведь тех, кому все это было нужно, уже нет.
Моя свобода в моей крови,
Моя свобода в моей боли,
Моя свобода в моей любви,
Моя свобода в моей воле.
Моя свобода в моей крови,
Моя свобода в моей боли,
Моя свобода в моей любви,
Моя свобода в моей воле.
Моя свобода в моей крови,
Моя свобода в моей боли,
Моя свобода в моей любви,
Моя свобода в моей воле.
Твоя работа - это не ты сам. как и твои деньги в банке. и твоя машина. как и твой бумажник. и твоя одежда. ты, лишь, кучка испражнений жизни. Only having lost everything to the end, we gain freedom .
Someone writes topics as an eyewitness to the process of life,
And someone like her party.
Someone uses facts, not myths,
And someone of ancient legends is a hostage.
Someone interested in knowing more
And someone already gave life in full.
Someone is looking for the best among all
And someone wants to be the best
Because he has only one life.
Someone needs mentors to achieve a goal,
And someone has to be this goal.
Others always did what they could,
And to someone in all this porridge to swim.
One cannot forget yesterday
Another has been dripping on the heart for ten years.
And you feel like you did it all in vain
After all, those who needed all this were gone.
Do the people from time immemorial locked in a cage need freedom
Where his best individuals burned marks on their foreheads,
They chopped heads, put them on a stake,
Where the blood of the worthy was shed before the face of the icons,
Where the truth was spoken in a whisper, fearing publicity,
Where the whole story is covered in a layer of scarlet paint,
Where someone’s principle ruined hundreds of thousands of souls,
Where zealous courage decayed among dirty souls
Where a large part of society sharpen their hair
Where half is sitting and half is on treason
Where frayed to the brink of morality
Where freedom fighters gave their lives!
My freedom is in my blood
My freedom is in my pain
My freedom is in my love
My freedom is in my will .
For freedom, not knowing the ford,
Bread and water, choosing, instead of the general fashion.
People hacked codes
Whose faces, in profile and full face, flash on stands and poles,
Many do not know them, they are afraid and do not understand
Choosing paradise imitators, not wanting to change something,
Waiting for a miracle all the time
Making their plans fall into the traps of the system,
We are all in treason, but big changes are coming!
Fighters for freedom on their fingers are a few people of fate,
That they spent their days alone for years
Whose heart is always empty, even with thousands of faces
Whose will has no mind subject to boundaries,
He prostrates himself, but comes out of there as a hero,
He knows who he is, knows what the word is worth.
He’s kind, but cruel by nature,
He knows the price of freedom, everything else is across!
My freedom is in my blood
My freedom is in my pain
My freedom is in my love
My freedom is in my will .
They always fought only for freedom,
For this, they did not expect good weather,
They tried to rob a word, close their mouth,
Pauses to wipe sweat
Reproaches fell on them, drove them to jail,
They gnawed a throat for their freedom,
Someone was traveling abroad, another was hiding,
Struggled with the system, but broke under it,
Holding on to each other, afraid to lose touch,
From all sides, across all the media, mud poured on them,
Letting out their word on the radio, in the newspapers,
In these seconds, they forgot about the prohibitions,
They have one faith - they believe only in themselves,
One fear that doing all this in vain
Breaking frames, robbing banks
For the government - the same thing
But they don't look like criminals -
They are freedom fighters!
And no one was able to breed this breed,
In complete secrecy, in poverty,
After all, they swore allegiance to man .
My freedom is in my blood
My freedom is in my pain
My freedom is in my love
My freedom is in my will .
Your job is not you yourself . like your money in a bank . and your car . like your wallet . and your clothes . you are just a bunch of stools of life .
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