Текст песни Ёк Макарёк - Бойцова Балалайка.

I sit on the shore
A small river
Branchu on the balalaika
And I sing ditties.

Balalaichka-friend,
Balalaika sister!
Oh, thank you mom -
I gave birth to a bully!

Since childhood my friend
He taught the carpenter's business.
I'm from a piece of oak
I made the balalaika.

Don't sing songs
Dance or play;
Stuffed the corners of the iron
And he went to fight her!

I met three vagrants
Goner robbers:
“Don't turn off the road,
Turn your pockets inside out! "

I unbuttoned my shirt
He took out a balalaika;
He waved to her, twisted -
Three heads split!

I write ditties
I play myself, I dance myself;
In a fight I am on a rampage -
I'm armed now!

These are hard times
The people have become impoverished in spirit:
Who will attach with a club,
And who pokes with a knife.

I play in pubs
I bully the peasant;
Rub down to drinking companions
Along the bearded stigmas.

Parasites, drunks
I love to drive!
A whole year, every week,
Balalaika to their blizzard!

My wife rules me
And I object!
She hits me with a shovel
I'm threatening her!

You, Grunya, do not contradict me,
Don't play on your nerves!
Or else it will sing between your eyes
Boytsova balalaika!

My balalaika -
A light that I have never seen!
I would use any grunt
Strongly envied!

She is solid from oak
I hit her aimingly.
There will be life by a hair's breadth -
I'll give you a balalaika in the temple!

I'll say so, buddy:
Go around the whole world -
You yourself will understand that in a fight
There is no better balalaika.

Balalaichka-friend,
Balalaika sister!
Oh, thank you mom:
I gave birth to a bully!