Анисимов - Грачи прилетели [ENG]

The "Rooks" have arrived (song about Su-25 Frogfoot)

As usual, our fly is urgent
Our comrades attacked, that's for sure
We fly in day and in night
On our eternal risk and peril

I put on the mark in the tablet
There, in the square, as if in a cage,
Our scouts in distress,
In this damn mountains.

We have the task,
But I not sure about our luck
We must hurry otherwise
There will perish whole platoon

I start engines without pre-flight check
The technician in old coveralls,
Will slam my plane by wingtip
Two "rooks" going to take off.

We do not look at the surrounding landscape.
We must always be on guard.
Making turns between the mountains and rocks.
"Hey, bro, do not fall behind!"

I flew through the hillock
And looked around
Wow, what a battle
Well, wingman, be prepared

Hey below, hold on, guys
We're starting our work
"From right, 30, machineguns!"
Shouts from the ground by radio

Turning on the target and drop the HE bombs
And after this, strongly
As if I'm going on potholes
My plane started shaking.

Enemy tracers like a spider web
I actively maneuvering
It's very tableau.
Like the Savrasov's "Rooks"

We arrived, to rescue
Enemies "salute" us here.
But again the "land" is not responding
Come on, scouts, answer to me!

I spinning and tumbling
For the hundredth time I renounce,
Upon arrival on base - I quit.
I don't want to die here.

Why I went to Katcha?
In Ulyanovsk all very different.
I would have good house, car, a lot of money
And I would piloted an Airbus.

"Rook", poor plane, it mutilated.
They will respond for this!
And the bright red balls
Flying towards me

Miracles still happen
I am still alive, although they hit me
Sweat corrodes my eyes
And nowhere to hide from the heat.

Very hot, not just warm!
Send down "gifts" for them
Not so easy to do my work
Under the boiling plumbum

VPU like a tank cannon
Roar of shots, shivers
I like a mouse in the tincan
On which struck with a hammer!

Would not want to die today
Not want to be mourned
I was really in a skillet
All ammunition is depleted.

Simulating attacks,
It's time to go out of the fray
Because fuel tanks nearly dry
And my craft have torn side

Befall me fear,
"Rook" is wearily down the nose.
So my life is hanging by a thread
My plane is just a flying wreck.

But it's alive, still working!
As if someone is holding it
And I hear in my headphones:
"Flyers... thank you!"

We took a course
Back to base
Shells, bullets, it's in the past.
Bernoulli's theorem
Holds my "rook" in the air

It flies on its last legs
And I have a nosebleed
So again I'll swallow pills
In the infirmary.

I'm approaching, by the base
Touched the runway.
Parachute poped sonorously

I will stop in the parking
Leave aside
And do not touch me.

Somewhere there is a fight.
But it's somewhere
Cuz' such beautiful summer...
Technician will give me a cigarette
Hey guys ... we live.