Текст песни Бригадный Подряд - Гитары

Am C G E
What are you the son did not grow up?
My mother reproached morning boy
Rock your stupid sick
The life you obviously do not crumpling sides!
In the group of drug addicts among your
Also on the neck sit at moms
Songs full - but empty pockets
Whoever set fire to your damn garage?

Chorus:
Am Dm G C F Dm E Am
Do not give, mothers, sons, guitar
Will musician - goryushko hlebnet
Do not bring happiness Fender Stratocaster
Do not feed her son Gibson Thunderbird

Durie scored in his Internet
Jump with a guitar - do not dig a hole
Here the neighbors normal children
Morning work - and in the evening to sleep
Songs your I do not understand
What do you hurt, just so you yelling?
With your music, the dog sneezes.
Previously drugyo was young!

4 | --2-2 --- 0 --- 2 --- 5 --- 2--
3 | --2-2 --- 0 --- 2 --- 5 --- --- 2
2 | --2-2 --- 0 --- 2 --- 5 --- --- 2
To be more precise, it's the chords AGACA

Here is your father late in the factory
If only my son was dressed and shod
Earlier in the ensemble playing, too, like
There was even talk that troublemaker
Dad sighed, lifting a nodules
Come wife, let's shut ka
It can be seen, not all old people are born
You know, son, if you will - play

Gift, mothers, sons Guitar |
Let their way be held chadushko | X3
And sing with happiness Fender Stratocaster |
And reveal the soul of Gibson Thunderbird |

4 | --2-2 --- 0 --- 2 --- 5 --- 2--
3 | --2-2 --- 0 --- 2 --- 5 --- --- 2
2 | --2-2 --- 0 --- 2 --- 5 --- --- 2