We are going along Lake Baikal on a steamboat
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In the morning, they are not drunk, it seems, but their head is spinning.
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From mother nature, all nostrils are in oxygen
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And effervescent water foams behind the diesel.
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And Dumas smiles - everything is of the highest order.
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We splash cognac into a plastic cup (come on, come on)
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Without asking, they climb into the soul of beauty from the Almighty
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And the gulls grab the bread crumb on the fly.
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And the gulls grab the bread crumb on the fly.
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Chorus:
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And on the Sayan Mountains there is white, white, white snow.
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And the depth is 2000 under the waves.
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And there are no distances in the sky over Baikal -
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Solid ozone hangs overhead.
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And in the sky, there are no distances at all -
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Solid ozone hangs overhead.
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And in the evening in Macau for the boys, we'll drink:
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We will sing, of course, “Vremechko”, “Friends” and “Ice”,
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And it will be hot all over Irkutsk this night
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When his barefoot dances in a circle.
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Irkutsk barefoot will dance in a circle.
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Chorus:
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And on the Sayan Mountains there is white, white, white snow.
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And the depth is 2000 under the waves.
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And there are no distances in the sky over Baikal -
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Solid ozone hangs overhead.
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And in the sky, there are no distances at all -
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Solid ozone hangs overhead.
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Do, Zhenya, things!
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Water went to Irkutsk!
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Oops, poplars!
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And in the morning we will rush to the capital by plane -
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Where the chest in the region of the heart aches from the bustle,
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Where away from noisy streets and slushy weather
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Baikal will beckon you more than a magnet.
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Baikal will beckon you more than a magnet.
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Chorus:
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And on the Sayan Mountains there is white, white, white snow.
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And the depth is 2000 under the waves.
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And there are no distances in the sky over Baikal -
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Solid ozone hangs overhead.
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And in the sky, there are no distances at all -
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Solid ozone hangs overhead. |