I was returning very late on a moonlit night, a tramp - the wind was swinging the lanterns around.
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And so that my path would be a little bit shorter, I sang this song to the stars:
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Chorus:
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Oh, chervonchiki, my chervonchiki! |
Ah, my dear, my good ones!
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You are my true friends, with you I am both full and drunk, my dear little chervonchki!
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You are my true friends, with you I am both full and drunk, my dear little chervonchki!
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As a wife, I sometimes caressed my luck, and the whip of insults whipped me on the back.
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But I was cheerful, well, how could it be otherwise? |
When the pocket was always pulled back to me.
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Chorus:
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Oh, chervonchiki, my chervonchiki! |
Ah, my dear, my good ones!
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You are my true friends, with you I am both full and drunk, my dear little chervonchki!
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You are my true friends, with you I am both full and drunk, my dear little chervonchki!
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I drank a lot and knew beautiful women, I hit through the ball in the middle of the board
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And he did not feel sorry for the chervonets more or less. |
Who cares? |
After all, that's the beauty.
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Chorus:
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Oh, chervonchiki, my chervonchiki! |
Ah, my dear, my good ones!
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You are my true friends, with you I am both full and drunk, my dear little chervonchki!
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You are my true friends, with you I am both full and drunk, my dear little chervonchki!
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Oh, chervonchiki, my chervonchiki! |
Ah, my dear, my good ones!
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You are my true friends, with you I am both full and drunk, my dear little chervonchki!
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You are my true friends, with you I am both full and drunk, my dear little chervonchki! |