Текст песни Башня Rowan - Отшельник

The old hermit lived ninety
years on a gray top,
The old hermit lived ninety
years on a gray top,
A ninety-first year
I went down to the city in the valley.
A ninety-first year
I went down to the city in the valley.

In this city trams
And drove cars.
And about a hermit top
long since forgotten.

The innkeeper said: "Even though you're a saint,
though the Pope on a platter,
Free beer in my place
It was not, and will not be! ".
A hermit listened to it and thought,
admiring the colorful dishes:
"As well, except for me,
There are other people! ".

On the first day of his papers
He took out of his pocket.
But the hermit did not pay for it
no attention.

Thieves stole a watch from him,
hat went there too.
But the old man is not very disappointed -
he did not notice the loss.

It's clear that so long
It could not last.
Angels rolled up their sleeves,
We went to investigate.

After a week in each beer
he said "Hello!".
Pours beer fed pancakes
and said, "Hello!".
Recluse decided that it is
true happiness.
In your kindness, God gave him
True happiness.

And the angels were in the pub
with a sense of accomplishment.
God does not throw his saints,
at least not for long.