Текст песни Медвежий Угол - Мистер Паркер

He came to us from overseas
Mr. Parker is a wonderful plowman.
Oh hold me mama
Mr. Parker - sweet sugar!

Know Dunki and Maruski -
He is in love like a demon agile,
He is rich as a new Russian,
Just like a grave - black!

- And what is it? Negro chole?
- You yourself are a Negro! African American!

Weavers are waiting, milkmaids are waiting,
Slowly they are dying with happiness
Our Falcon Parker flew in -
Sip, regret.

He will not offend the girl,
Knows share our grief:
For the crumpled skirt
Will give a green piece of paper.

Oh how.

Guys scratch their heads:
That's Parker! What a miracle!
Our darlings ran away
All beckoned to him, paskuda!

And the little women, you know, laugh:
Ah yes miracle Mr. Parker!
So what, blacker than night,
He is at least black, but not easily soiled.

Only somehow inadvertently
The hero began to grow weak and dry.
A falcon walked for fame
He lay down - does not dare to gasp.

He became all sick and weak
Neither the doctor nor the healer helped
And, tortured by a Russian woman,
Pomer Parker, the miracle plowman.

They buried this nits -
The women burst into tears
Guys forgetting the insult
They choked on a glass.

They meared right at the tomb
Buried anyhow
And snowdrifts lay on top
Snow-white coverlet.