Текст песни The Dartz - Карлик Борис

My father was an honest farmer,
He left me some money ...
And I let the wind,
Propyl and the house and garden.
And it was silver copper,
A gold - ash.
Rolling Stone made me
Wine and "thrown up"!

I was brought to the city
Passing caravan
But bad housing in the city,
When the empty pocket,
When one boot flows,
And the rain is a wall,
I hobble over the bridge,
Humpback and intoxicating!

I could live with honest labor,
I might be jester,
Making people laugh their hump,
Scare toothless mouth,
And for feeding and lodging
In the port tavern
Twang simple motif
The dunce cap!

But no! I am weak and sick,
Throw me a coin,
And no - I'll come home to you,
When you are not home,
And maybe pyrnu knife,
Hiding face cloak
In the darkness, outside of the curve,
Under pouring rain ...