Текст песни Беломорканал - Сын прокурора

Pale moon light lit
Old cemetery yard.
Over forgotten old tomb
Cried a young thief.

- Forgive me, my dear mother,
You're early in the life is gone.
Lost a beloved son,
Father did not find a scoundrel.

My father in a big warm house
With the new family - the prosecutor.
He judges people according to the law,
Not knowing that his son was a thief.

And here in the dock
A young boy sits
And blue eyes
Father-looking prosecutor.

Prosecutor read the indictment,
The offender is given the word:
"Judge you, the citizens of the judges,
You need to, and I do not care. "

There was a short shot,
And the boy fell to the ground.
"I am your son," - smiling face of death
Thief prosecutor said.

- My dear, my rodnenky boy
Why are you silent on the court?
Would have told me about it before,
And dad you used acquitted.

Pale moon light lit
Old cemetery yard.
Over the old and new grave
Hanged himself prosecutor.