Текст песни Вадим Кузема - Прощальная

And I feed myself in the cargo sleigh,
More than once in bad payments.
For uncle of someone else's sweeping for years
And ten times less in return will get.

Chorus:
And I will ask you do not remember the malice,
And sharp manner of my common.
And if with me what, then good people
Do not trick my wife, feed the children.
Do not trick my wife, feed the children.

I will catch the tired bird of luck
And with her grief on the throat of bread.
More than once from fun and sadness
And with the cry, breaking the voice of the Sorv.

Chorus.

And I'm not a gift, someone without honor,
Remeasured the devils in this life.
And somewhere, I hope unprecedented songs
Someone from my sons will sing.
Someone from my sons will sing.

Chorus.
Chorus.