| If you are sad from life-being,
|
| My heart is empty, I call my friends.
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| One here, one there
|
| The third one drove off to Surgut on business.
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| But it's not a problem, put things aside,
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| They will come, save, the wives will wait.
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| We are fifty, and then a hundred,
|
| Faithful friends to hell out of spite,
|
| Do you remember how, yes, under cognac,
|
| And immediately the heart is warm.
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| We've been friends for fifty or a hundred years,
|
| Years are like water, friendship is like wine,
|
| The more years, the better it is not.
|
| We are going to Sochi in a noisy crowd,
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| We rule grief with a bathhouse and an ear,
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| Let fate divorce for a year or two,
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| Like the bridges of the Neva.
|
| But no one will betray, will not go into reserve,
|
| Even though they haven't spared us for a long time.
|
| We are fifty, and then a hundred,
|
| Faithful friends to hell out of spite,
|
| Do you remember how, yes, under cognac,
|
| And immediately the heart is warm.
|
| We've been friends for fifty or a hundred years,
|
| Years are like water, friendship is like wine,
|
| The more years, the better it is not.
|
| We are fifty, and then a hundred,
|
| Faithful friends to hell out of spite,
|
| Do you remember how, yes, under cognac,
|
| And immediately the heart is warm.
|
| We've been friends for fifty or a hundred years,
|
| Years are like water, friendship is like wine,
|
| The more years, the better it is not.
|
| The more years, the better it is not.
|
| The more years, the better it is not. |