| Open shirt, leather shoe,
|
| I'm walking along the Liteiny.
|
| The aesthetes have fallen into oblivion and offers the pavement a bottle of "Stella Artois".
|
| It hovers in the city before a thunderstorm, lost on the road to Zenit.
|
| Friend two years in prison, the mood is shit,
|
| Everything in the world pisses me off.
|
| Sparkle the tram arc. |
| Well, where are you, my woman Degas?
|
| Where are you, my hurricane?
|
| A ray of sun, a sea tan, a slender leg.
|
| Open shirt, leather shoe,
|
| I'm walking along the Liteiny.
|
| With an open chest to people, not on show-offs
|
| I am my boyfriend, the pavement trumps me.
|
| Two steps from the big house
|
| God carried, as "Across the sky" Chagall.
|
| So for a hooligan once - what will you take in a drunken way from us?
|
| Rolled his fingers.
|
| The city lights up the lights. |
| How long have I not given flowers.
|
| Where are you beautiful?
|
| Wasp waist, delicious tangerine.
|
| The city lights up the lights. |
| How long have I not given flowers.
|
| Where are you beautiful?
|
| Wasp waist, delicious tangerine.
|
| Open shirt, leather shoe,
|
| I'm walking along the Liteiny.
|
| Huge and immodest towards rolls "Limousine
|
| I'll say: "Slow down!
|
| How are you, bro? |
| Me - Sasha.
|
| Take me to where it's good. |
| You and I will pull away
|
| And then we part with a pure soul, with a pure soul.
|
| Take me to the place where pain smoothly turns into love.
|
| Take me, please, to the walls of Peter and Paul, if not weakly.
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| Take me to the place where pain smoothly turns into love.
|
| Please take me to the walls of Petropavlovsk,
|
| If not weak, if not weak, if not weak. |