| From the Volga to the Yenisei, forests, slopes, and steppes.
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| Scattering, you are my Scattering from the Volga to the Yenisei.
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| E-i, e-i, Scattering, e-i.
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| On the way, the night accordion is flooded,
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| The girls walk in a crowd, smiling sweetly.
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| The night is so wonderful next to you
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| The song is Russian, dreamy flows like a river.
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| Chorus:
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| From the Volga to the Yenisei, you can't count the kilometers with your feet.
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| Scattering, my Scattering from the Volga to the Yenise-e-e-i.
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| From the Volga to the Yenisei, you can't count the kilometers with your feet.
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| Scattering, my Scattering from the Volga to the Yenise-e-e-i.
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| E-I, Rasseya, e-I.
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| The young harmonist is trying with all his heart,
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| It plays great over the river wave.
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| My native side, log Russia,
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| The song is sonorous, crazy, sadly crowned.
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| Chorus:
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| From the Volga to the Yenisei, you can't count the kilometers with your feet.
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| Scattering, my Scattering from the Volga to the Yenise-e-e-i.
 | 
| From the Volga to the Yenisei, you can't count the kilometers with your feet.
 | 
| Scattering, my Scattering from the Volga to the Yenise-e-e-i.
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| From the Volga to the Yenisei, forests, slopes, and steppes.
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| Scattering, you are my Scattering from the Volga to the Yenisei.
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| E-i, e-i, Scattering, e-i.  | 
| Rass-ya! |