ОБОРОНА РУСИ - КОРНИЛОВ
текст песни

Defense of Russia

Checking our rage,
Calling us to battle,
Yarosh car
Spark of the third world.
Not in the first to die of death.
We did not see such.
But opened in a sharp light
Faces in masked and without them.
Here's how paralympics,
Reded on the Maidan
In a stroller and on studs -
Madam Capiter farm.
Here, clinked non -liness,
Pronyetsk champion,
In the forbidden crotch
Vitaly ethinzon beats.
Here is the Prime Minister Bakai and Frokman,
The one that pulls to the side
New "Drang", that is, the front
East.
Zhid-Avtro-Hungo-Poshkay ...-
West explosive package.
In this gang, brother, forever
There were no ours and no.
Not Slavs, but Maidan,
Like in the seventeenth, then ...
Changed on the Maidan
Fuck in the radish, yes.
These are, brother, Delishki.
The foreheads came on the foreheads.
Some of the cubes are cracking
Others are cracking on the senses.
Where are you, Pilushka Bear?
Where is the Warsaw Treaty?
From an ambush in Belovezhie
Three "cuts" hit point blank ...
Coste firmament, chain mail and choppers -
Our hereditary overload.
But Muscovite by blood is Rusich,
Like a crest and Belarusian.
And in the arms to the crunch
We squeeze ourselves in a fist
Because to be Russia,
Otherwise, we do not.
At least chop us, at least cut it, -
Three times we are one people!
The dope of Belovezhskaya is necessary
Urgently give the return move.
We will recall "Forty -Fifth" ...
But already in our house:
"Right Sector" - NATO sector
Together with Turkey in Crimea.
At the archangel on the wings
The grinder of the smoke curtain.
And from Kyiv to Crimea
Russia is in the third world.
On a live bear skin
Merkel is divided and both ...
Rolled out, if not a fool,
Globalistic lip.
Pull Rothschild and Rockefeller
His cussmar from Kalach ...
And it's time for a piercing hairdryer
Cumshot with this mafia.
In a wheelchair
Pushing and - Adj.
Ukraine is not Alaska,-
We will still return it.
And with glory in the patrol
Sevastopol is waiting for the enemy.
Peninsula in the Russian Sea
He anchored for centuries.
In this line
Russia entered the hilt.
We are nakhimov and Kornilov
They ordered to stand here.
To the map of the world, as if in cards,
Do not play the fool.
We are any Bonaparte
We will always enjoy the sides.
We are an alpine transition,
Like Suvorov, we’ll bite the hook
And in all lights and fords
We will return the spirit of Kutuzov.
The Bandera Mutans
There is one road - "Get!"
And not with the whole Entente
They hang on birches.
And no need to stream nerves,
And sign up for the army
And come on like Sevastopol,
Defense, brother, hold.
And then let's go on the attack
In the horizons, so be it,
To the White House with the Barack
Drown in the ocean.

02/26/14
Leonid Kornilov