Текст песни Голос Омерики - ТУРИСТ

Quietly sparks are driven by the wind
Snow is silvering under the moon.
And our fire is shining in the fog
And the tent is a reliable overnight stay.
The sonorous song pours joyfully
There is a cigarette in the soft blue smoke.
Even alcohol, it seems, is easier to drink
From tins, but under salmon ...
About forest about the sun together
After the third we will famously sing.
Even the forest sings to us a song
So come on in the fourth one!
Good, free, brothers!
There is no edge to the vastness of the soul!
Eh, I can’t breathe in any way
The sweet air of the wilderness.

Just something "with a dowry" herring, -
In a backpack, it got dull, you see ...
Alcohol is drunk and vodka ends
And it started to cool slightly.
And we seem to have eaten canned food ...
They knew how to white bread at a time.
- "Did we sing about the forest sun?"
So the songs ran out with us ...
As luck would have it the winds rose, -
Our fire at the moment is covered with snow,
With a loud crack, the ropes broke
And all the fucking tents demolished.
Our rucksacks scattered everything,
And the guitar sticks out of the snow!
And before that it’s already getting colder,
That the bristles and alcohol do not warm!
Oh, and in the city right now, a disco, -
The girls are spinning to a new hit ...
Why the fuck did I go here ?!
Only provoked bronchitis!
And while the guys are having fun, -
We drink vodka here!
In the snow we freeze the prostate
And we slobbering songs!
Damn it, damned tourism!
What time is it ?! There was-was not !!!
Come on quickly, guys!
The train has not left yet ...