The call sign is strela , the order is on the radio in my ears,
I squeeze the steering wheel, there's no time for imitation.
Through the forest, past the burnt armor,
The task is to deliver the cargo, damn it.
The pedal is in the floor, the engine roars tiredly,
There's a buzzing beginning overhead.
They are preparing a hellish chorus of steel and fire,
But they can't reach me today.
A swarm of drones is circling, searching for my soul,
An explosion to the right, to the left — it broke the silence.
But I’m flying forward, the asphalt burns in the night,
SVO driver, hear me, don’t shout.
I grip the steering wheel, the veins on my hands,
I grind my primal fear into dust.
My “Ural” is flying like a steel bird,
I have an order to deliver, I need to hurry.
Shards are hitting the windshield.
I see the goal, and I’m heading straight for it.
Flashes flicker, reflecting in the mirrors,
My guardian angel has lost his way in the clouds.
One dived, almost grazed the hood,
Instinct kicked in, a sharp turn.
I went into the ditch, but I straightened the car,
Today I won’t become fodder for routine.
A swarm of drones is circling, looking for my soul,
An explosion to the right, to the left — it broke the silence.
But I’m flying forward, the asphalt.
