Текст песни Трофим - в карманах у жигана

In pockets Gigue walking wave wind
And rubs thin thigh semizaryadny barrel.
And in this situation the cold gloomy evening
Srul on criminal outrage.

A fraera walk, rustling mass of cash,
Huckster unload Lopatnikov peasants.
And in this situation, ignoring the danger of the soul,
I went to the case of a young Zhigan.

In the crowd, he chose a rich selection of lady
And demanding cash, got a pocket barrel.
A lady was the wife of Attorney
And it had whorish nature.

She told him: "Let's without incident.
I'll give you cash, but then, it was to be.
To avoid further litigation,
Very well that night my love. "

Above the town vicious moon mist kneading,
And chilly alley yelling homeless cat.
A prosecutor in the house Zhigan gathered his strength,
I had the twelfth approach.

In the morning before the children's thinner size,
With all my heart I despise this life a farce,
With poor health, to trample on faith
Staggering Zhigan wandered down the street.