The first sleepy tram will leave the park
|
Will close the doors and sparkle and hide in the sky
|
Well, here comes the real winter.
|
With cold omnipresent snow
|
He will no longer accept for the night, in his bed
|
And it will not warm until morning, the house is not completed
|
And the first, black and white day, said
|
"Well, fugitive, you're caught"
|
No, I won't give up, I'm not a criminal
|
Just on the run
|
And the morning city is not friendly
|
Evil and huge
|
It's better to freeze in the winter cold
|
In white snow
|
Than stay at home homeless
|
And let the blizzard, as with a fallen thin leaf
|
He plays with me and sweeps unbearably
|
I'll hide from her, in some house
|
Entrances for warmth - thank you
|
My cursory trail, let everyone who is not lazy look for
|
Who, according to their duty, is paid - for hunting
|
I won't give you up alive on this day,
|
And tomorrow is a day off, Saturday
|
Pouring into a dirty, muddy, street stream
|
I will try to be as inconspicuous as possible
|
And here no one can figure me out
|
Nobody, and never in the world
|
And cursing your satiety and warmth
|
And your clean, nice clothes
|
I'll say that I'm not lucky with you
|
And our city in winter is snow-covered
|
No, I won't give up, I'm not a criminal
|
Just on the run
|
And the morning city is not friendly
|
Evil and huge
|
It's better to freeze in the winter cold
|
In white snow
|
Than stay at home homeless
|
Let on a winter evening
|
Drunk, dozing station
|
into the wind
|
The proshursha will open the doors
|
Look me trustingly in the eyes
|
I'm sorry, but I don't believe you
|
And people will all rush to their lights
|
And the city will curse frost and cold
|
And the dormant station asked me:
|
"Well, fugitive, who needs you?"
|
No, I won't give up, I'm not a criminal
|
Just on the run
|
And the morning city is not friendly
|
Evil and huge
|
It's better to freeze in the winter cold
|
In white snow
|
Than stay at home homeless
|
It's better to freeze in the winter cold
|
In white snow
|
Than stay at home homeless |