| Hemp grows in our country house,
|
| Comrades. |
| Who sowed it, what an idiot?
|
| We were not at the dacha for a year, we come, and
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| The dacha is littered with hemp. |
| Wow, fuck...
|
| Viburnum blossomed in my dacha. |
| Wow, fuck...
|
| This is not viburnum, this is hemp.
|
| Who sowed it, who raised it?
|
| People, tell me, what kind of moron?
|
| Hemp in the country is blooming merrily,
|
| Stoned people run around the dacha.
|
| They walk, have fun, yell songs.
|
| I see how fun it has become here over the year.
|
| Right now I'll take a shovel, and then a broom.
|
| I'll drive this wise man along the ridge.
|
| Who sowed it, who raised it?
|
| Maybe Balalaykin? |
| He used to wander around here often...
|
| Oh, viburnum blooms in my dacha,
|
| Comrades. |
| This is not viburnum, this is hemp.
|
| Who sowed it, who raised it?
|
| People, tell me, what kind of moron?
|
| Viburnum blossomed in my dacha,
|
| Comrades. |
| This is not viburnum, this is hemp.
|
| Who sowed it, who raised it?
|
| People, tell me, what kind of moron? |