Текст песни Питченко Роман - По пыльной дороге

On a dusty road
under the scorching sun
Chained
The boy walked
He was very tired, his legs were so numb
And something to the convoy
He whispered softly.

Listen bro
Let's have a smoke
Roll up the cigarette
I'll smoke
I will tell you
For what I suffer so
Why is it so shameful
I am our chains.

The count has a daughter
Call her Valentine
Beautiful lady from a noble family
She played and sang on the piano
And someone on the violin
Played along in the garden

She hastened to the sound of this violin
And in the thicket of the alley I found a footman
And the lips merged into the lips of a kiss
And she wrapped around the footman's neck

In the morning the footman was put in jail
For not being a count, but just a lackey
Truthful judges did not want to understand
That every people have a feeling of love