News and reposts do not stop coming, dedicated to how beautiful the song "I STAY", recorded the other day by a whole camp of Russian rock stars.

From Sukachev and Surganova to Pooh and "25/17" - everyone gathered and sang.

And how they slept!

How good!

How timely!

How sincere!

How soulful.

Actually, I, jubilant, was one of the first to post this song, as soon as it came out, and I was one of the first to publicly rejoice at how well these guys and girls did.

To all those involved - bow and thanks.

Now there is a mood to bring down a little this, including mine, joy, because it already turns back a little.

Those who are now plowing on the territory of the special operation remain with Russia: soldiers, volunteers, military correspondents, artists and musicians who went there to sing and work.

Those who plow there in the most direct sense - in the fields.

Those people who have been waiting for her in the Donbass and not only there for eight years remain with Russia.

And now they are sitting under shelling, often without electricity and gas.

And they bury relatives and neighbors, but at the same time they do not stop believing in peace.

to the Russian world.

In victory.

To our victory.

They pray.

They work - each at his job.

And they are waiting for their loved ones from the front.

And they do not run wherever their eyes look from Donetsk, Gorlovka, Lugansk, Stakhanov and Lysichansk, which are under shelling every day.

And also from Izyum, Kherson and Melitopol do not run.

Here they are to live.

And the fact that a camp of nice men and several beautiful women decided to stay in Russia and even sang about it in chorus is an occasion for momentary joy, and not for two weeks.

No need to sculpt infantiles from adults.

Otherwise, they will seriously believe that they are now entitled to a vacation with rehabilitation for their heroism.

We look forward to their new musical numbers.

Performances in hospitals.

Tours in the Donbass, finally.

Are you staying?

Thank you brother.

Thanks, Sister.

Hold on - not an automatic!

not a shovel!

- just a microphone and sing for the boys.

They waited eight years.

Thousands never waited.

Remained in the ground.

Well, at least please the rest on earth.

They also want to sing these simple words with you:

“I still believe that I’m lucky!”

The point of view of the author may not coincide with the position of the editors.