| The skating rink was flooded, electrical tape was wound on clubs, | 
| A horde of thin kids turned into cubs. | 
| "God protects the safe," grandmother Nyusha told me, | 
| Throat wrapped with a scarf to stupidly protruding ears. | 
| "God protects the safe," grandmother Nyusha told me, | 
| Throat wrapped with a scarf to stupidly protruding ears. | 
| We grew by leaps and bounds and went to dances on Wednesdays, | 
| On weekends, a ticket is thirty kopecks more expensive. | 
| "God protects the safe" - I listened to the instructions of a neighbor, | 
| Dropping a self-made brass knuckles into a lead pocket. | 
| "God protects the safe" - I listened to the instructions of a neighbor, | 
| Dropping a self-made brass knuckles into a lead pocket. | 
| Chorus: | 
| What for? | 
| Again? | 
| To forget is not to remember. | 
| But even fish across the planet | 
| He goes to his house to spawn, | 
| And memory, like a dream, needs a poet | 
| Children to raise and educate. | 
| Spirited Afghan boys grabbed a predatory paw. | 
| In war, as always, there is no mother of a fighter to regret. | 
| "God saves the safe" - the ensign tore his throat before the flight, | 
| Adjusting the bulletproof vest in the shoulders and under the armpits. | 
| "God saves the safe" - the ensign tore his throat before the flight, | 
| Adjusting the bulletproof vest in the shoulders and under the armpits. | 
| On the road for months. | 
| I pass cities and villages, | 
| I often sleep on trains, I have crossed more than one ocean. | 
| "God saves the safe" - I knock superstitiously on the floor | 
| And I hide the icon with Nikola in my left breast pocket. | 
| I'm still half a hundred and seven, but I don't know peace, as before. | 
| I still want to rest, because neither the mind nor the flesh is eternal. | 
| "God saves the safe" - they tell me, I swallow pills, | 
| Realizing that the Lord does not take them into account. | 
| "God saves the safe" - they tell me, I swallow pills, | 
| Realizing that the Lord does not take them into account. | 
| Chorus: | 
| What for? | 
| Again? | 
| To forget is not to remember. | 
| But even fish across the planet | 
| He goes to his house to spawn, | 
| And memory, like a dream, needs a poet | 
| Children to raise and educate. | 
| What for? |