Текст песни Олег Немировский - Маленький Лагерь

Pines did not get laid with the wind
An endless was their dispute.
In our little camp
You and you warmed a fire.
And, so indecisive,
For the tents dream roam,
But the inhabitants did not sleep -
He left again.

Our years as a liner,
And slightly spine in the chest:
In our little camp
Who is sitting at the fire now?
Who with a guitar is trusting
Talking souls leads?
From whom unnoticed
Sleep will go somewhere?

All in orange flame
New day begins.
Very sad little liner
Through the glass to shine on fire.
Multicolored flags
We are welcomed by the forest, man.
In our little camp
Place is at the fire.