Turning up the collar, wearing a gray cap
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He left for the first term as a youngster.
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I didn’t want to, but let my mother down with a folder,
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Yes, and grandmother in a scarf was crying quietly.
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I didn’t have time to say: “I love” to my Svetka,
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Waiting for the stages ahead of the youngster.
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Autumn sobbed with rain, said goodbye,
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Only a photo from her remained.
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Chorus:
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Look at him, do not judge strictly,
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Do not rush to close the young guy.
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The prosecutor is doing his own thing - collect your knapsacks.
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Only the best spine do not strive,
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His bell will ring - don't repent.
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And roll on you to the fullest,
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After all, the stripe will not be black for a century.
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For the first time I put on a pea jacket, a damned number,
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Stop judging, he understood everything.
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From prison and from fate, you know,
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So why are you ruining the kid's life.
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Chorus:
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Look at him, do not judge strictly,
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Do not rush to close the young guy.
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The prosecutor is doing his own thing - collect your knapsacks.
|
Look at him, do not judge strictly,
|
Do not rush to close the young guy.
|
The prosecutor is doing his own thing - collect your knapsacks.
|
Look at him, do not judge strictly,
|
Do not rush to close the young guy.
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The prosecutor is doing his own thing - collect your knapsacks. |