The tanks roared on the field,
The soldiers went into the last battle,
And the young commander
Was carried away with a broken skull.
The tank has been hit by a shell,
Good-bye, my dear crew.
Four corpses near the tank
Will complete the morning scenery.
The machine is on fire,
And the ammo will go off any second
I want to live so badly, guys,
And I'm too weak to get out.
They will get us from the debris,
Will lift the frame with their hands,
And the fire of the tanks
Will follow us into our last journey.
And the telegrams will fly
To inform the family and friends
That their son will not come back
And will not come visit them.
Old mother will cry in the corner,
Old father will wipe out a tear.
And the young bride will not know
How the guy's life ended.
And the photocard will collect dust
On the shelf with yellowed books.
In the uniform, with shoulder boards,
And he is not her groom anymore.