Текст песни Автор С. Машьянова,чит Е.Орлова - Брут

Not a city, but a big village
Painted with tobacco smoke
And garlands of New Year's lights.
If the show-off shone
then it would be brighter here and at one in the morning,
Than 12 in Cuba.

You burn a new dress like a cigarette
Youth in the club
Surrounded by girlfriends
And you meet at the bar counter
In whom I am sure
He is not your enemy and not Brutus

Legs give way on their own
Either from tenderness, or from rum
And you move your lips, move,
And not a word comes out of them.

It is pleasant and flattering to him,
Presses you calmly and tenderly
Like a baby to your chest
And in his head a film strip is spinning:
"Lord, you fool, pick up your snot and leave"