Translation of the song lyrics Afterparty - XS Project

Afterparty (original)

На афтапати, на афтапати
лежал Андрюха — лицом в салате
сюда попал он заночь все лавэ потратив
и отрубился на афтапати
на афтапати, на афтапати
кто на колесах кто в бутерате
у всех что ни глаза то будьте нате,
а как иначе на афтапати?
на афтапати, на афтапати
приехал толик на мазерате
за ним Валюха и Петруха на бугатти
чтоб потусить бля на афтапати
на афтапати, на афтапати
никто не спит — танцевать не катит
ди-джей играет на убитом апарате,
а всех колбасит на афтапати
на афтапати, на афтапати
у бара телки — наташа с катей
четыре сиськи в прозрачных платьях
хотят холявы на афтапати
на афтапати, на афтапати
вода без газа, и пива кстате
давай по пятьдеят братан накатим
ведь мы с тобой на афтапати
на афтапати, на афтапати
все шевеляться на автомате
все дело в разведенном канцетрате
што привезли на афтапати
а с афтапати, а с афтапати
домой добраться бы и до кровати
неделю спать до выходных, а там опяти
на вечеринку и потом на афтапати

Afterparty (translation)

At the afterparty, at the afterparty,
Andryukha sprawled, his face fallen in salad’s green lagoon,
He drifted hither, spent the night and every coin he’d cradled,
And vanished, shipwrecked in the afterparty’s swoon.
At the afterparty, at the afterparty,
Some on wheels glide by, some swirl in butirate’s haze,
Each pair of eyes, lit lanterns in a fevered night,
How else to burn but on an afterparty’s blaze?
At the afterparty, at the afterparty,
Tolik has arrived, his Maserati like a comet’s tail,
Valyukha and Petruha thunder after in a Bugatti—
To revel, to whirl, to curse the afterparty’s grail.
At the afterparty, at the afterparty,
No soul sleeps—the hour dances refuse to start,
The DJ battles with a crippled apparatus,
And the crowd convulses, a sea possessed, each heart.
At the afterparty, at the afterparty,
At the bar, Natasha and Katya, bright as wolves at dawn,
Four breasts, veiled in glass, shimmer in their dresses—
They hunger for fortune the afterparty has drawn.
At the afterparty, at the afterparty,
Flat water for thirst, and beer, a passing thought —
Come, brother, let us drink our measure, fifty deep,
For after all, together at the afterparty we are caught.
At the afterparty, at the afterparty,
All sway, marionettes by automaton strings,
Diluted concentrate is the sorcery at play,
That potion the midnight couriers did bring.
And from the afterparty, and from the afterparty,
If only home and bed would not seem lost at sea,
I’d sleep a week until the world renews—then yet again,
To the feast, and afterward, to the afterparty.