We will sit at the table until late, and in the end
|
The Great Maestro and I will play a concert.
|
Not about how the years flowed with water into a sieve,
|
And about how we were convicts for nothing, for nothing. |
For nothing, for nothing.
|
Chorus:
|
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
|
Like walkers above a chest of drawers,
|
The clock counted down
|
And they cuckooed to the beat.
|
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
|
And we counted the years.
|
And then we had them for the future
|
Released shutdown.
|
He was just a convict and the only violinist in the whole camp.
|
His violin broke from laughter to crying.
|
Not from the fact that sadness from the bow hit her in the chest,
|
And since the violin was considered a convict. |
Zeka.
|
Chorus:
|
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
|
Like walkers above a chest of drawers,
|
The clock counted down
|
And they cuckooed to the beat.
|
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
|
And we counted the years.
|
And then we had them for the future
|
Released shutdown.
|
I was also a convict and drank - was my best bow.
|
And the guitar crackled and hung on my shoulder.
|
Not because she was sad in prison every day,
|
And from the fact that he was in prison thirty years before me. |
Before me.
|
Chorus:
|
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
|
Like walkers above a chest of drawers,
|
The clock counted down
|
And they cuckooed to the beat.
|
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
|
And we counted the years.
|
And then we had them for the future
|
Released shutdown.
|
We will sit at the table until late, and in the end
|
The Great Maestro and I will play a concert.
|
Not about what we met with him, found,
|
And about the fact that such a short long life is.
|
losing
|
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
|
And we counted the years.
|
And then we had them for the future
|
Released shutdown.
|
Released shutdown.
|
Released shutdown. |