Голубые молнии - 20 лет
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Кто не верит, пусть не верит,
Кто там был, тот все поймет,
Человека в плащ-палатке
Подавали в вертолет…
20 лет - как это мало,
В плащ-палатке паренек,
А, точнее, что осталось, -
Это все положат в гроб.
И под цинк все закатают,
Капли крови с рук сотрут,
На другом конце не знают,
Там его живым все ждут,
Адресаты заполняя,
В борт все грузят, и в Союз,
Их "Тюльпаны" называют,
Черный цвет, "двухсотый груз"
Кто на солнечной долине
В том бою за перевал,
Кто на собственной машине
Своим телом бронь стесал,
Вроде, горы безобидны,
Все молчит, и в тишине
Вдруг тупой удар застынет
С М-16 на спине.
На руках здесь умирают,
На руках друзей несут.
Землю матом покрывая,
Может быть, его спасут…
О годах 80-х в этой песне я пою,
Здесь я понял их как надо,
Тех, кто всю прошел войну.
И как страшно сейчас все понять
В наше время здесь, в горах,
Сколько жизнь сейчас может стоить,
Запеклась кровь на камнях…
И на сером монументе
Снова свежие цветы,
Всем, кто в дальнем контингенте
Двадцать лет зарыл в пески.
Где-то солнце, смех и дети,
Мяч летит под небеса,
И казалось, на планете
Жизнь прекрасна и чиста.
Ну а где-то бой последний
Кто-то примет для себя,
Там, где солнце жарко светит,
Где еще идет война.
Кто не верит, пусть не верит,
Кто там был, тот знает все…
Who does not believe, let him not believe
Who was there will understand everything
Man in a raincoat
Submitted to the helicopter ...
20 years - how little it is,
In a raincoat tank, a guy,
And, more precisely, what remains, -
This is all in the coffin.
And they will roll up under zinc,
Drops of blood from hand will be erased
They don't know at the other end,
Everyone is waiting for him alive,
Addresses filling out
Everyone loads on board, and to the Union,
Their "tulips" are called
Black color, "two hundredth cargo"
Who is on the sunny valley
In that battle for the pass,
Who is on your own car
The armor hesed with his body,
It seems that the mountains are harmless
Everything is silent, and in silence
Suddenly a stupid blow will freeze
With M-16 on the back.
They die here in their hands,
Friends are carried in the arms.
Covering the ground with obscenities,
Maybe they will save him ...
About the years of the 80s in this song I sing,
Here I understood them as it should,
Those who went through the war.
And how scary now is it to understand everything
Nowadays, here in the mountains,
How much life can cost now
Blood was baked on stones ...
And on a gray monument
Fresh flowers again
To everyone who is in the far contingent
For twenty years he buried in the sands.
Somewhere the sun, laughter and children,
The ball flies under heaven,
And it seemed on the planet
Life is beautiful and pure.
Well, somewhere the last fight
Someone will accept for himself
Where the sun shines hotly,
Where else is the war.
Who does not believe, let him not believe
Who was there, he knows everything ...
Who was there will understand everything
Man in a raincoat
Submitted to the helicopter ...
20 years - how little it is,
In a raincoat tank, a guy,
And, more precisely, what remains, -
This is all in the coffin.
And they will roll up under zinc,
Drops of blood from hand will be erased
They don't know at the other end,
Everyone is waiting for him alive,
Addresses filling out
Everyone loads on board, and to the Union,
Their "tulips" are called
Black color, "two hundredth cargo"
Who is on the sunny valley
In that battle for the pass,
Who is on your own car
The armor hesed with his body,
It seems that the mountains are harmless
Everything is silent, and in silence
Suddenly a stupid blow will freeze
With M-16 on the back.
They die here in their hands,
Friends are carried in the arms.
Covering the ground with obscenities,
Maybe they will save him ...
About the years of the 80s in this song I sing,
Here I understood them as it should,
Those who went through the war.
And how scary now is it to understand everything
Nowadays, here in the mountains,
How much life can cost now
Blood was baked on stones ...
And on a gray monument
Fresh flowers again
To everyone who is in the far contingent
For twenty years he buried in the sands.
Somewhere the sun, laughter and children,
The ball flies under heaven,
And it seemed on the planet
Life is beautiful and pure.
Well, somewhere the last fight
Someone will accept for himself
Where the sun shines hotly,
Where else is the war.
Who does not believe, let him not believe
Who was there, he knows everything ...
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