Текст песни Киркоров - Там, где идёт игра

The day is forgotten like a deception
And the evening-boy reigns.
He puts on zero
And, laughing, he gives silver.
Evening magician, evening page,
You expected that he would be ours
But he calls like yesterday
The voice of silver follows.

Where the game goes
I am God and Satan
There from night to morning
Ball of green cloth.

Pale light, motley hall,
And the croupier is tired of banking.
Rustle, ringing, as if delirious,
But in the morning I'll come to you.
Conjure over me
Give shelter and bring peace back.
But steals the evenings of our meetings
The voice of silver.