Текст песни Arthur Meschian - Возращение Блудного Сына

When as a prodigal son back
Return to your city
You will search for houses
Who did not have time to say goodbye.
Sit down the corners of the table
Silently and seriously
And nowhere words are now.
Late! Late!

When home like a prodigal son
You quietly return,
You hear how the clock is knocking
And the shadow in the corner of juts,
You are your old father
Touches carefully
Son, you finally come.
Eh! Late! Late!

And you will search for in hundreds
To the eye look friend,
What your mother is
I met near the house.
When love like a prodigal son
Will be careful
You will only hear the answer one.
Eh! Late! Late!

And who created such a law?
What comes back to the term
Again you understand that late
And lost someone.
While the prodigal son for you
Return conscience
All your words in response
Late! Late!