The bullet flies exactly on its course.
The bullet is not art, without weight, without feeling yes
Without taste, without meaning, without conscience
Without qualities of talent, soulless, but to the death.
A bullet is no fool, no cause, no taste, hitting the target doesn't make you sad
A bullet is a shark, no care for the muzzle, the finger on the trigger
As far as the snack, as far as the bite
The bullet will kill
Won't ask: "And who are you? Where's your thoughts, what's your discharge
What's the patch, why are you the bait, For whose lie speeches?
Where are your thoughts, how talented are you?"
The bullet doesn't matter, the bullet is Headhunter
The bullet is a tarantula, will eat you in a moment.
A bullet in pieces for someone else's idea
[Chorus] (x2)
# Sirens were howling nearby, tanks were passing by #
I'm a soldier and it's my fate to lay down my remains.
Brother for brother, blood for blood and that pain in my soul.
Remembering my daughter's tears and someone's blood on my sl
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