| Generation of the doomed!
|
| How recently - and oh, how long ago -
|
| We loved funny girls
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| We went to the cinema to go to the protyrka.
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| But the forty-first wind blew -
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| So we suddenly became adults.
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| And pounded the skin-corporal
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| We have the wisdom of the science of sciences.
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| Oh, the cloth charm of the charter -
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| And in a dream you can't forget
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| That any movement to the right
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| Starts with the left foot.
|
| And then in multi-colored stripes
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| We brought the guards to become,
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| And married different bastards,
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| To make it all go faster.
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| And along Red Square, shaleya,
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| We walked - with glory to "you", -
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| He smiled at us from the mausoleum,
|
| And the guards threw flowers.
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| Oh, how step we printed bravo,
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| How easily we forgave our debts!..
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| Forgetting that the movement to the right
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| Starts with the left foot.
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| What are you up to, bullies?!
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| This was not the destiny we dreamed of.
|
| How did the deserters go to judge us,
|
| Only fluff, so to speak, flew.
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| - Answer, soldier, as you like!
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| Answer, soldier, as you like!
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| Answer, soldier, as you like!
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| Stop talking nonsense, soldier:
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| That from the Volga, they say, came to Belgrade,
|
| I didn’t look for, they say, no ranks, I won’t live ...
|
| So why didn't you die like you should,
|
| How are you supposed to rank?
|
| Barely audible answers the soldier,
|
| Barely audible answers the soldier,
|
| Barely audible the soldier answers:
|
| - Well, it didn't work out to die, it's my fault.
|
| Guilty for not dying from a bullet,
|
| The stupid bullet hit the wrong guy.
|
| It's kind of like with awards in PUR, (*)
|
| So there wasn’t enough bullets for me!
|
| "You're still fooling us, soldiers, with the old ones?!
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| You're fooling us all, soldiers, old!
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| You're fooling us all, soldiers, old times -
|
| You strike for pity, combatant citizen!
|
| No money, they say, no separate apartment,
|
| There is nothing like that in the factory,
|
| And you are the only one, which means you seem to be ideological,
|
| And others, then, like Volodya!
|
| Oh, the prosecutor-deserter is raging!
|
| Oh, the prosecutor-deserter is raging!
|
| Oh, the prosecutor-deserter is raging! |
| -
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| Will print years old by ten!
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| Oh, you are my friends, fools, -
|
| Again in the mud of impassable roads!
|
| Curved Parallels
|
| Taught us a glorious lesson -
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| Do not share bread with the scum,
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| Don't prostrate before flattery
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| And do not believe in a clear sky,
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| Not in the smile of illustrious faces.
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| Let glory be with us again,
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| Let enemies call themselves friends,
|
| We remember that the movement to the right
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| Starts with the left foot! |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Вальс, посвящённый уставу караульной службы, artist - Александр Галич. Album song Королева материка, in the genre Русская авторская песня