| Chorus:
|
| Eh,
|
| , eternal longing!
|
| The pain is incurable, black eyes.
|
| Wounds are pouring salt, veins are cut into blood.
|
| Vodka in the throat gurgles pure love.
|
| And we are a misunderstood People,
|
| From each song, the gypsy pret.
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| Frequent words disturb the soul:
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| “Treasury house”, yes “Wind head”.
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| The binge happened - you will be understood.
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| Romance - stole, drank and went to prison.
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| And from the movie, the motive is that donkey,
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| With an invocative cry: "Everybody dance!"
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| I run with Pavlov's reflex, believe me,
|
| Watch how the door creaked in a fairy tale.
|
| Everything is clear to me now,
|
| Suddenly, as in a fairy tale, the door creaked.
|
| Chorus:
|
| Oh, Slavic sadness, eternal longing!
|
| The pain is incurable, black eyes.
|
| Wounds are pouring salt, veins are cut into blood.
|
| Vodka in the throat gurgles pure love.
|
| Hey, hey, hey, hurry up!
|
| Hey Hey!
|
| And we will never stop singing:
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| "The cherries ripened in Uncle Vanya's garden."
|
| Forgive us, God, it just so happened
|
| Uncle Vanya's cherries are ripe.
|
| And since such a booze has already gone,
|
| Kosovorotka or vyshyvanka, -
|
| I don't care, that's not happiness.
|
| Horses, horses, and spare parts mixed up.
|
| Chorus:
|
| Oh, Slavic sadness, eternal longing!
|
| The pain is incurable, black eyes.
|
| Wounds are pouring salt, veins are cut into blood.
|
| Vodka in the throat gurgles pure love.
|
| Oh, Slavic sadness, eternal longing!
|
| The pain is incurable, black eyes.
|
| Wounds are pouring salt, veins are cut into blood.
|
| Vodka in the throat gurgles pure love.
|
| Hey, hey, hey, hurry up!
|
| Hey Hey!
|
| Hey, hey, hey, hurry up!
|
| Hey Hey! |