Текст песни Александр Пинегин - Михаил Першим - Старушка

She sat on a shelf old
The wrinkles and red scarf .
She pretended to be a saucepan ,
Under the hood hiding her face .
And the inhabitants of this apartment
It was cooked in soup and broth,
And porridge and soup, and pickle ,
And even imagine compote.
She grinned softly :
It should be there , what fools -
Can not just pot
From grandmother to distinguish live !
And this strange deception lasted
In winter and summer , all year round.
It is easy , my friends, deceived ,
When so beautiful compote !