Текст песни Голос Омерики - Песня тапёра

It used to be
Masterfully spied jazz
And he easily sold out.
Traveled on tour
To overseas many times
But then I got into the tavern.

Here where the ball rules
I’m going down to the bottom
It's silly to talk about culture.
But I still try
Musical taste
At least a little here, but to instill.

Is in my repertoire
Classics and blues,
And the old romances are a whole block.
So that anyone who comes
Though throwing away sadness for a moment,
Could enjoy.

Cured by art
People of the soul I want
But there will always be an indevid
The one that fits and is drunk
Slamming on the shoulder
Again through my teeth
Is talking :

Do something, bro,
About the taiga and the long term,
To take my soul!
Like simple boys
Guilty without guilt
They tearfully recall their father’s house!

I, of course, confess
Hard to perform
For these soaked
Red rye.
But music has a property
Fate to heal
To make a person cleaner
Just a penny!

Because I am every night
Sitting down at the piano
I start with Brahms and the Beatles.
With all that can
Help people
Discard the burden of ignorance of fetters!

Keys caressing as if
His woman
Gently performing the Vienna Waltz.
And in the mood for the hot I love -
From foxtrot to Cuban salsa.

How many feelings would each
Found in different music:
From fun to bitter tears!
But here some drunken died
He came up again and, putting me fifty dollars, said ...

Every day from time to time
The story is one:
I'm trying to explain to people
That the music is good and different is needed,
But they do not get tired of asking ...