| “And slowly passing among the drunks,
|
| Always without satellites, alone ... "
|
| The trumpeter nodded to her from the stage,
|
| Another hoarse, as if in a cold,
|
| He called her, trepache,
|
| Princess from the lower oil pan.
|
| Here he pulled up, trepach, pants
|
| And he gave out a rumba with pepper,
|
| And to her, the princess, at least henna,
|
| She barely shrugged her shoulders.
|
| “Like, just beckon with a finger,
|
| Hundreds of falcons will fly,
|
| And sat down and read the menu,
|
| And I chose beef stroganoff.
|
| And all drunken proletarians,
|
| All are parasites and crooks,
|
| Like a rock in a planetarium
|
| Looked, bitches, at her ...
|
| - Rumba, tra-la-la, rumba!
|
| Babi around, uttering a groan,
|
| Went to wave handkerchiefs.
|
| She's like Lady Hamilton
|
| I drank soda in sips.
|
| Babi around (continuous social security),
|
| Lifting, like peaks, forks,
|
| Chopping vodka for soup
|
| Champagne under kilechki.
|
| And the steel of the zagol crowns,
|
| Reprisal rave soon:
|
| "Oh, this daughter of the king
|
| Shake Aurora!”
|
| And all drunken proletarians,
|
| Humbled ideological hearts,
|
| Ready for the righteous battle
|
| And to the storming of the winter palace.
|
| - Rumba, tra-la-la, rumba!
|
| It's stuffy in the hall, like in the subway,
|
| From perhydrol curls.
|
| The princess drank lemonade
|
| And I ate my beef stroganoff.
|
| And again the woman stares
|
| To become her picture -
|
| On her narrow finger
|
| A ring for two and a half.
|
| And mean time flows,
|
| And passing the hall like an apiary,
|
| "Six" brings her the bill,
|
| And that's all, and a cover for the holiday!
|
| And meanwhile she drank and ate,
|
| Putting your whole soul into this process,
|
| The most prosperous riffraff,
|
| Not recognizing princesses.
|
| - Rumba, tra-la-la, rumba!
|
| ... Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on,
|
| Get strong and clean your feathers!
|
| Such a life is a bad life
|
| At the modern Cinderella!
|
| The fairy godmother is not waiting on the street with her carriage ...
|
| Chews woman, sniffs woman,
|
| Invents a terrible!
|
| And to her kingdom forever -
|
| Promises and fables
|
| And there they fell in the cold,
|
| "Princess from the Lower Maslovka!"
|
| And here she is between the tables
|
| In his jersey suit...
|
| Ah, she is far from Sokolniki,
|
| Oh, she won't have enough for a taxi.
|
| - Rumba, tra-la-la, rumba |