Текст песни Климбатика - Расскажи ей Сказку

TELL HER TALE

Slowly creeping night.
You are drunk again in practice.
Your daughter is not breathing.
And she screamed at you
Hunger prevailed over the cry.
You didn’t sleep again.

Tell her a story, mom,
Maybe God will forgive you.
But you don’t need to feed.
If there is no asking - let it lie!

Happy afternoon, you're on the bench
At the entrance you think:
Why is shit around.
The president is such a bastard
He didn’t give money for wine.
In the Duma, all such bastards.

Tell her a story, mom,
Maybe God will forgive you.
But you don’t need to feed.
Do not care for the president, he is silent!