Текст песни Центральный Гастроном - Педали на левую руку

Pedal to the left arm

It smells of hay in a sloping marshes
For the third year already toothache
Oh, why did you come up with the fall
It flies over the ear whistle

Blue with canned Glavryba
Fallen off the face of freckles
Oh, why am I so optimistic
I treat with suspicion to you

How burbot eludes Sich
Nose poke porous pants
I love your blue shoulders
And the pedal on the left hand

Boil water in samovars
Good to be me Yesenin
Oh , get a balalaika
Shoot down helicopters at dawn