Tears of his mother on his eyelashes
|
Will fill the ocean bit by bit,
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She can't sit at home alone,
|
Again the trains come out to meet.
|
Here he will get out of the seventh car,
|
In boots, with orders and epaulettes,
|
The cheeks of the neighbor girls will flare up,
|
There will be a reason for the homies to take a walk.
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homie his guys know
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They are always interested in drinking wine,
|
Drag the old song about friendship,
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Scratch your fists about passers-by,
|
He will get off the carriage, from the restaurant,
|
With a suitcase and a father's button accordion,
|
And they will go glass after glass,
|
Remember your soldier's life.
|
He will get off the carriage, from the restaurant,
|
With a suitcase and a father's button accordion,
|
And they will go glass after glass,
|
Remember your soldier's life.
|
And the bride will kiss hot
|
Not for expensive clothes, gifts,
|
Not for a wheelbarrow but a cool handout,
|
And for the color of his blue eyes...
|
He will appear in full parade,
|
He will say: Cry, my love, that's enough,
|
Forgive me for everything, for God's sake,
|
Yes, let me drink from your lips!
|
He will appear in full parade,
|
He will say: Cry, my love, that's enough,
|
Forgive me for everything, for God's sake,
|
Yes, let me drink from your lips!
|
His little sister is a splinter
|
Pulls marijuana with a friend by a steam locomotive,
|
In the evenings disappears, bitch,
|
In foreign cars with business husks.
|
He will come, he will say: Hello, sister!
|
This is not the way to behave.
|
I’ll pour it like this - it will hurt everyone to sit down -
|
Sit down, little sister, what is wrong with me...
|
He will come, he will say: Hello, sister!
|
This is not the way to behave.
|
I’ll pour it like this - it will hurt everyone to sit down -
|
Sit down, sister, is it something with me ...
|
Fast train, two minutes parking,
|
Who is lucky, who is a rotten scoundrel,
|
Oh fate, a deck of cards for a gypsy,
|
He will distort, he will lead the simpletons ...
|
He returned in a baggage car,
|
Crowned with a red star in the forehead,
|
Like a boat, galvanized on board,
|
Eternal journey along the sea of mother's tears.
|
Eh, Russia, either a mother, or a she-wolf,
|
What did he manage to do to you?
|
Silence, only rushes past the cemetery
|
Mercedes for the general's sons. |