Владимир Шандриков - По большаку летят, летят машины...
текст песни

Anthem to the cow

Record in Odessa 1977 ...

They fly a lot, flying cars.
The sides are sobbing, frozen, creak.
To sausage, on the skin, on the bristle
From the distant villages for us are taken cattle
To death - for a meat processing plant.

What time is the column on the way,
The brakes completely fell asleep in the warmth,
And in cows, unprotected,
Blood crumbles from these terrible races
Already drop by your eyes.

And through the lattices it is heavy and strained,
Grying of the superstructure hard sides,
Quiet horror looks bitterly in my soul
Through the eyes of mortal cows.

Such pain, longing and hopelessness ...
They really feel, they still feel
What awaits them there behind the horizon of snowy
Of all the saints holy inevitability
In the name of life for others.

They roar hungry, chopped!
The wind and frost are whipping into their nostrils,
And along the last mortal road
In silence, their friends took off their hats -
Family of Single Birch.

Always and everyone is sympathetic to birches,
They grow from the memory of centuries.
The law of nature was always harsh,
The time will come and tears will be shed
In the spring ringing of axes.

Well, for now, look at the freeway -
Zils carry on their backs and carry
Live and giving birth to a community
On the bodies of the packaged herd -
On minced meat, on Zelts, to sausage ...

And tomorrow they will be in stores
Brains and blood, but if you please you
Paul cut the udder.
Once also Danko took out his heart
And threw it to our dirty boots.

They fly a lot, flying cars.
The sides are sobbing, frozen, creak.
To sausage, on the skin, on the bristle
A cattle is taken from the villages for us
To death - for a meat processing plant.