MysticVerse - Разбойник
текст песни

The stars will die, the month will die
The nightingale's song will fade away
Pereslesitsa in Chernobyl
I'll sit down with a flail
By the river under the slope
Don't throw away the lure, fisherman.
On the road through the dark forest
Don't count the treasury, merchant!
Hands of grasp, hands of grasp
It’s not for nothing that I’m called a grip
I'll grab brocade and tubs
Dear, I’ll take off my robe
Lightning in a dark grove
Scratching a strand of hair with a spruce
Help me out, scissor
The sound of wheels is heard
Not to be found out by stupid people
Where did you save and keep the money?
If you want it, we'll get it all
Dark night in the meadow!