| The drum beats and the piano enters, | 
| The heart beats and the clarinet sighs, | 
| The lights went out in the hall. | 
| And now for you | 
| Tears of parting, dreams of happiness, | 
| Passion-face and other misfortunes, | 
| Everything is like the first time | 
| All that jazz again | 
| Where the music doesn't care, where the music doesn't care. | 
| I don't play music, she plays me | 
| Like a doll. | 
| Music doesn't care, but this music doesn't care. | 
| I don't play music, it plays me. | 
| Riga, Samara, Moscow, Palermo — | 
| Our navigator thumped, probably. | 
| Five nights without sleep | 
| You eat everything and fly. | 
| Lidas to the ligaments, and calcium to the vein, | 
| And all so unusual | 
| You dance and sing | 
| Yes, and you will die not for a penny. | 
| Freeze, die, die, rise, | 
| And again move forward and with the song: | 
| This is the ticket you got. | 
| And suddenly one day the ligaments will fail, | 
| And silently the audience is waiting for a break | 
| And it seems that there is no more strength and no and no. | 
| But music doesn't care, but this music doesn't care. | 
| I don't play music, she plays me | 
| Like a doll. | 
| Music doesn't care, such is this jazz, | 
| We don't play music, it plays in us. | 
| And so you sing to the rupture of the aorta, | 
| Halls, stations, airports, | 
| Hundreds of new eyes | 
| And all this is for you. | 
| But who suddenly decided why I should | 
| Tell you everything while alive | 
| Sing like a song my way | 
| Through heaven and hell on earth. | 
| And the games of intrigue are incomprehensible, | 
| But I love her for the moment, | 
| When we seem to be flying. | 
| Invisibly someone is standing above us, | 
| And suddenly the flame burns the soul, | 
| And it seems: everyone is loved, loved. | 
| And the music sounds, all this eternal jazz, | 
| We don't play music, it plays in us | 
| Like in dolls. | 
| Most respected gentlemen and ladies! | 
| Our program includes novels and dramas, | 
| Meeting of two hearts | 
| And full ... c. | 
| In our live music box | 
| Living dolls dance and laugh, | 
| But at the end of the show | 
| Everything will be fine. | 
| Great whole to all and parts, | 
| And they look into the sky with a prayer for happiness | 
| Six billion pairs of eyes. | 
| And everyone believes: just about there | 
| Light will pour and a miracle will begin, | 
| And so be it this time. | 
| Let the music sound, let the music don't care. | 
| I don't play music, she plays me | 
| Like a doll. | 
| Music doesn't care, such is this jazz, | 
| We don't play music, it plays in us. |