Текст песни Михаил Щербаков - Флейтист

The disappearance of anything. Seven troubles - one answer.
I teach fun of a kind.
In the morning wakes up, oh, whole white light,
looks behind the gate -
I am not here, I am out.

I am a feast, no more Tamada.
Look for another fool with a tambourine
and where is the former, with flute, on the bottom of Lee, where water,
in a dream of a nonbomb
What is the need?

In the queue, the natives - Chin rank read.
Submit paper to the replacement.
With the benefit of friend, oh, moderately combine.
Somewhere and treat
Remove yes feed.

The disappearance of anything. Will not see the will.
Site without looking - for the first time or what?
Whether to observe the bowels, in the cloud of
Lee, rolling goli,
get used to become?

Phaeton was rushed, the dust on the field flies -
That I drove on a picnic whose.
There someone is bored, oh, so he is fighting.
He and us with you, flute,
Okolitis.