Текст песни Кучин Иван - Рецедивист

Now the tears did not help grief
You know Mom , do not grieve ,
What if life is a solid night
And once it plainly understand.

Back home , and here they are, groomsman
And all went running first
Cheap Indian , yes taverns
Yes money , of which always lacked .

And there, of course, again camp
And your eyes as a mute reproach
I lost touch with moms in truth,
I lost touch with human life.

And life just because she is good,
Katka as touchy of " Baimov " *
But it is selling the soul -
She has four prior convictions.

Oh I would give up everything , but to sink into the wilderness :
Find a simple yes to marry a woman
Kids make fifty souls ,
Look, go and settle down .

Yes I'm hardly moms recidivist
For me, prison, as arable land per farm.
Do not come out of me , Mom , tractor
We can not plow and sow late