And you know, I live in an old courtyard,
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And I love my tired Moscow.
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And you are my old courtyard, my Moscow.
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And where, where are you, school friends?
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My Lyokha is a school friend - he is one of the athletes.
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He drinks whiskey and listens to chanson.
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He is the roof of various businessmen,
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Persons of particular importance in business.
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To knock his head off someone is like spitting,
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He has such a specialty.
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He is not used to thinking about it for a long time,
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And otherwise he is a guy of nothing.
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He likes to walk, have fun,
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He is quiet in appearance, but stern in his soul.
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God forbid Lyokha get too drunk -
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He will break a lot of wood.
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Seryoga - a classmate - serves in Alpha,
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He was a shooting ranger at school.
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He keeps medal badges in a box,
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What he won in shooting ranges in the struggle.
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Now another life, other goals -
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Hey, watch out, terrorists all!
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Eyes shine in the optical sight,
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And a finger on the trigger.
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And emerging like a hero from a fairy tale,
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Released hostages more than once
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Seryoga is just a guy in a black mask,
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But he has already saved a lot of lives.
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Another - Vasily - he rushed higher,
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He got into the people's chosen ones.
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Now he is somewhere under the Kremlin roof,
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And in childhood there was a shaggy jackal.
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I was thrown into a high position
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On a muddy political wave.
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Now he is a shark in politics,
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And he is quite satisfied with life.
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He, they say, is familiar with Chubais himself,
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And at the entrance is a black Mercedes.
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Sitting in the State Duma, scratching his belly
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And eat black caviar for breakfast.
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Irishka - in the native central market,
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She has a stall and like nothing,
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But only troubles in personal life:
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There used to be a husband, now he's gone.
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He was soaked in Chechnya for a long time,
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Even at the start of the fucking war.
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Other men, of course, were
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But they did not live with her as a wife.
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And although Irishka is not an old woman at all,
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And with money, and good-looking,
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Yes, only with men it’s not good,
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Yes, only in the eyes of sadness and pain.
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And then one day, as if they had agreed,
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At the poplar that grew at the entrance to the house,
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Everyone met friends and were surprised
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And everyone spoke there about his own.
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Ter Lyokha, which is strict in showdowns these days;
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Irishka - how hard it is without a husband,
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Vasyok - about voters, Seryoga -
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How to defuse a bomb in the subway.
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Everyone hugged and even shed tears:
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Oh, rarely, they say, we meet, friends!
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And somehow everyone was in a hurry
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And they parted - the road to each is his own.
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And somehow everyone was in a hurry
|
And they parted - the road to each is his own.
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And you know, I live in an old courtyard,
|
And I love my tired Moscow.
|
And you are my old courtyard, my Moscow.
|
And where are you, where are you, school friends?
|
And you are my old courtyard, my Moscow.
|
And where are you, where are you, school friends? |