Текст песни Юрий Аделунг - Катамаран

Leave your sadness for home,
We are not pocket now sad.
Sprinkled chest
And the pass is closed with fog.

Away from these red cliffs
Know the tart taste separation,
Instead of a hop celebration
Will come measured boredom.

Run of our days tireless
The eyes do not believe the photograph.
My friend really is us
In the photo in the hug?

Among Moscow Maiet
And impressive conversations
More than once you remember you
Catamaran and these mountains.

Goodbye mountains, it's time for us!
Pull with just a little sense.
Out of catamaran leaves
By staying stream.

We will come back to you somehow
To go back to the catamaran.
Sprinkled chest
And the pass is closed with fog.