Horus - Струна и меч
текст песни

Gold, jasper, azure and purple
The glitter of heraldry blinds the crowd
So the prince goes to war
And let this news throw you into fear
Evil enemies who have forgotten the gods
How many horns will we cut off from helmets?
After - ballads of glorious slaughter
They will sing throughout the country for many centuries to come.
A pot-bellied monk rang the bells, calling for mass
And somewhere in the castle, there are faithful ladies-in-waiting
Weaving tapestries for the coming victory
They mold their shells with their polishing
Glaives, shields, halberds and masks
And only one thing is knocking in my head
I wish I could quickly get back to my goldilocks
Throw gold trophies at her feet
Unapproachable, beautiful like Freya
Inaccessible like a fairy
Clouding the male mind
Like the spell of Morpheus
See interest in your eyes for the first time
How reciprocity will be reciprocated
In the morning - triumph, in the evening - feast
And at night we'll scatter innocence to the wind
Hey there! straighter rows
Do not spare your lungs, heralds
Hey! way to the young
So you bravely sing a song to madness
And may she fly victoriously and proudly forward
Like a falcon over the forest
Wait, we'll be back soon
Bringing dust of exploits on cloaks and hilts
She doesn't care about victories and flags
She loves ballads and sagas
She's crazy about sonnets
What some writer dedicated to her
And these feats, battles, maneuvers
She's simply not interested
And while the prince went to war
Minstrel fucked princess
She doesn't care about victories and flags
She loves ballads and sagas
She's crazy about sonnets
What some writer dedicated to her
And these feats, battles, maneuvers
She's simply not interested
And while the prince went to war
Minstrel fucked princess
The raven will not peck out the raven's eyes
Preferring to peck them from corpses
Fortunately, there are a lot of them in dented iron
Roughly chopped up on an endless field
The flock croaked as if in mockery
Above this standard outcome of battles
Roughly trampled into the dirt by hooves
Gold embroidery on pompous standards
Why aren't you having so much fun, prince?
What's that red stain on the shell?
Somehow you can’t see the enthusiastic faces
Somehow the roar of victorious reports died down
Where did it all go wrong
How I drew for myself in those dreams in my spare time
What did you prove to anyone by turning into stinking carrion, essentially?
And somewhere there, behind the forests and haze
Spring thunder thundered like buckets
A crescendo of groans beat against the ceiling
And so the hips moved rhythmically
Like the triumph of life itself over death
In a bright and violent fit of ecstasy
What is the moral of this fairy tale?
You can figure it out for yourself, guys.
She doesn't care about victories and flags
She loves ballads and sagas
She's crazy about sonnets
What some writer dedicated to her
And these feats, battles, maneuvers
She's simply not interested
And while the prince went to war
Minstrel fucked princess
She doesn't care about victories and flags
She loves ballads and sagas
She's crazy about sonnets
What some writer dedicated to her
And these feats, battles, maneuvers
She's simply not interested
And while the prince went to war
Minstrel fucked princess