Текст песни Денис Третьяков - Тибетский марш

March of the spring band,
Our Tibetan children's march.
On the dispute with the Everest jump Bumbarash.
Let the fire from all the guns
We were met by Shambhala,
Solar world evil Buddha.
Sing from blood checker,
Yes neigh happiness horse.
Cocked cap,
By enemies - fire, fire, fire!

All we are waiting for the frying pan!
Burning pan.
For the sins of the grave we came here.
All we are waiting for the frying pan!
Burning pan.

Sunny world - yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

And in old age, we go to bed
In our cozy warm coffin.
Music and order a brilliant green smazhem forehead.
And the orchestra will play "a million red roses"
Billions of souls, oceans of tears.

All we are waiting for the frying pan!
Burning pan.
What we do not do - will burn forever.
All we are waiting for the frying pan!
Burning pan.

Cheer comrades - all come pussy!

(And so every time
finger to the sky - God in the eye).