Текст песни Пятилетка - Закурить Бы, Выпить

Blue smoke over the village, pulling moonshine
Honor, for two years without kumara
I myself am here and all my thoughts away from the paddock
On trezvyanochku sings My Guitar

Etc.:
to smoke, to drink, to obscure soul
To feel better to otleglo
But here is poured into a cold
And though not in the cold - no one pours

What is so ugly in Russian in exile
On a year to dry up in the camps
Kohl in uniform so drink until he lost consciousness
The robe Well drink and relax in the drill

chorus
loss

An hour before going to bed, and beetroot tart flavor
Until the pleasant stupor blows
Just a glance slid to the hook with a gun
Eye - oblique and always falls asleep