Текст песни Александр Ягья - - А ты лети, моя душа

I ask the turning, Gypsy, black
Yes, all the truth wrestle about the fate of my
I wonder everything that will be, yes, I do not wave,
In the long road, happiness

Pr: And you fly, fly, fly my soul
Where the morning is poured with zaring
Where is the bare girl at the pond
Will donate our old men about us with you
There, where white January snow
Rushed under the window beautiful birch
And you fly, fly, fly my soul
There, where the former feces breathe

And the track is ribbon, thin winding
Then in a dead end, it is preparing, then keep horses,
Pray - I clean the soul, yes, orally at the stream,
I am waiting for me from the road of the far love.