You sit at the bar alone,
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Orchestra on the stage of the tavern
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Labaet "The Light of Moscow Windows"
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With major, confusing the sharp.
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And before him the fifth is empty
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With Moscow vodka decanter,
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You cast glances at him -
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He is alone or not alone.
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And he is not that grief,
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And so life is not lucky,
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Well, in general, everything is in a minor key in the morning
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And vodka is not fun.
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And you, who send your glances from the counter,
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Alas, you can't get things done.
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You flutter like a butterfly at night,
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Look, she got up, she came over.
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Hand with a thin cigarette
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Like a pilot a dead loop,
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You described in a dim light:
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"Sorry, can I smoke?"
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And for some reason they appeared
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Native girlish eyes.
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"You look sadness, dispel a little",
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Looking into them, he said to himself.
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Lying that she was about twenty years old,
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And agreeing to rubles,
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She converted them into bucks
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And a night of paid love.
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And having worked out conscientiously,
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Got up on a hangover morning
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Uncomfortably in the bag, rummaging around,
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Everything suddenly fell on the floor.
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Lipstick, mascara, condoms,
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And one photo card, -
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She and her mother by the willow,
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And the edge of a familiar village.
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And he, looking at his mother, understood everything:
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He recognized his ex-wife,
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And roaring from terrible pain,
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He raised his eyes to his daughter:
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"Forgive me, tramp, daughter -
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You were born, I immediately sat down...
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And mother filed a divorce urgently,
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Remarried after doing business.
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And mother filed a divorce urgently,
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Remarried, having done things,
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And you called another dad,
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And I'm in prison camps.
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And apparently the devil took us in his paws,
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We don’t have time, so he brought us together.”
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And you laughed in response:
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“Are you out of your mind, dear?
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If it were so, I would add a little,
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For a night with a kindred spirit!
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And sailed away, and he remained,
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And a day later they found him.
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He swayed so quietly in the noose,
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Soaring from the sinful earth. |