If you are sad from life-being,
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My heart is empty, I call my friends.
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One here, one there
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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,
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Faithful friends to hell out of spite,
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Do you remember how, yes, under cognac,
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And immediately the heart is warm.
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We've been friends for fifty or a hundred years,
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Years are like water, friendship is like wine,
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The more years, the better it is not.
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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.
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But no one will betray, will not go into reserve,
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Even though they haven't spared us for a long time.
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We are fifty, and then a hundred,
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Faithful friends to hell out of spite,
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Do you remember how, yes, under cognac,
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And immediately the heart is warm.
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We've been friends for fifty or a hundred years,
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Years are like water, friendship is like wine,
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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,
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The more years, the better it is not.
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The more years, the better it is not.
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The more years, the better it is not. |