Текст песни А Леонтьев - А. Тарковский Голуби

DOVES

Seven pigeons - seven days of the week
They ate food and flew away,
To replace these pigeons
Others come to us.

We live, we count on the seven,
There are only five in the last pack,
And our old backyards
To heaven it is a pity to exchange:

Here our sisars coo
Walk around and complain
Lumpy asphalt pecking
And they drink rain at the wake.