Текст песни ВИА Песняры - соло И. Пеня - Война совсем не фейерверк

War is not a fireworks at all,
Just hard work
When, black from sweat, up
Glides on the smelting of the infantry.
March!

And clay in chasing tops
To the brain of bones of the washed feet
Versted on chobot
Weight of bread in a monthly paja.
March!

On fighters and buttons like
Scales of heavy orders.
Not to the Order
There would be a homeland, with daily Borodino.

Dreamer, fantasy, lazy, envious!
What? Bullets in a helmet cheat?
And riders rush with a whistle
Sabel ridding propellers.
I used to think: "Lieutenant" sounds: "Pour us",
And, knowing the topography, it is tolerates on gravel.

War is not a fireworks at all,
Just hard work
When, black from sweat, up
Glides on the smelting of the infantry.
March!
March!
March!

Music: V. Muulavin
Words: M. Kulchitsky
Solo: I. Penya (1984)
Arrangement: B. Bernstein (1984)