Текст песни Рок-группа - Третья беда

I've been kept under a huge castle for so long
That I burst into this world with a naive barking puppy.
I was kicked by the gopot that now bears on my hands,
That when you try to get out of the crowd feels fear.

There are few fools and roads in Russia,
There is a third trouble - it's me, Russian rock!

Stadiums cry with me, dissolving in me
I raise millions, staying at the bottom.
And let it be shitty in my life and I don’t listen to others,
But I'm Kant stopudovo in all gold wrappers!

There are few fools and roads in Russia,
There is a third trouble - it's me, Russian rock!

When I am cheerful, I thump, burn and ruin,
When I sober up, I dry out and ask for forgiveness.
My torn nostrils, my legs in shackles
I saw Yeshua Ga-Nozri, Yahweh, Buddha and Allah.

There are few fools and roads in Russia,
There is a third trouble - it's me, Russian rock!
There are few fools and roads in Russia,
There is a third trouble - it's me, Russian rock!