Они встретят тебя в Черном Лесу
Do not cross the hayfield, the hayfield, the hayfield,
Do not cross the hayfield as sinks the blood red sun...
Ghosts glide from the hayrick on the hayfield, the hayfield,
Ghosts glide from the hayrick in the eerie glow...
Do not cross the hayfield...
Do not cross the hayfield as sinks the blood red sun...
Ghosts glide from the hayrick on the hayfield, the hayfield,
Ghosts glide from the hayrick in the eerie glow...
Do not cross the hayfield...
