I don't need anything, Vanya,
In your head and in your pocket ...
Can only a little attention
Press, so that life does not seem
Sad and fresh ...
I would also like to distributes honest,
Sitting in ambush to know the lack and even,
And why not in a hurry plane?
And who is lucky when the ice go?!.
Leddery, linel, blood zaled ...
Deadly affairs - save the young body!
Here, flew ... timidly, looked ...
So far, not boldly this wind!
Your chubby lips kissed me,
Hold your hands on the steering wheel! You are the pilot, Vanya!
Pets of children and gullible ladies
But your plane does not fly to Amsterdam ...
Your cities, Vanya, too small,
Houses - drawn, and streets - narrow!
I speak Russian: Ivan, lagging behind !!!
My fragile rails will not stand the load! ..
No snack! .. Fall in the abyss,
The needle of the progress of this stone globe,
Fight! I sit in the last bus ...
I don't need anything, Vanya, that's what focus!
The pilot Ivan knocks on the drum,
His breathing is like the wind
His steps shake out the planet,
He knows everything in the light of the secrets!
The pilot Ivan knocks on the drum,
His eyes are gold coins,
Comet burns in his hair,
He knows for sure: who are you and where are you!