Текст песни
They rocked in the same cradle, smeared themselves with the same dirt
Wrote letters in the snow with the same blood
And now they drown in the same mud
Brother against brother, Slav against Slav
One mother cries for both in two voices
The blood on the snow is equally red
And they don't care whose grave to dig
Brother against brother, howling under the same sky, they once sang the same songs
Now, instead of lullabies, there's the wail of sirens, and in every house an empty crib
We grew up in the same prefabricated building, kicked a ball around in the same yard, one grandfather told us about the war, the other about the collective farm's lamentations
The same holidays, the same troubles, the same vodka burning our throats until dawn And now one wears a helmet with a trident, the other with the letter Z, both are covered in mud up to their ears, both shouting for our own
One looks through the other's sights, and in their heads is their childhood, where they used to run into the woods together
Their mother calls, her voice trembling Son, are you alive? And the son replies Mom, it's just like in the movies, only the blood is real
The screens scream enemy!, Nazi!, Fascist! and in a trench, two boys smoke the same cigarette before dying
Brother against brother, Slav against Slav
They broadcast from the screens, as if from pulpits in a dusty church, It's not us, it's them, it's historical inevitability
And below, the farmsteads burn like matches in a child's hand, and dogs bark at the corpses, not discerning whose they are
One brother is in pretrial detention for not going, another brother lies in the ground for going
Both thought they were defending their home
But they were defending other people's accounts and other people's crowns
The underground whispers Wake up, bitches, it's all the same blood, but their voices are drowned out by the roar of artillery and lies
In the darkness, they dream of freedom not the kind on television, but the kind where you can hug your brother without aiming for his heart
You lick the sky when you hear him coming
You lick the sky when you hear your brother coming
Brother against brother
One mother cries for both
Blood on the snow equally red
It will end someday
And only ashes will remain, and two graves side by side, and an inscription on one slab
Here lie brothers, who were forced to kill each other
And the sky is still as gray, as it was in childhood
