Текст песни Елена Камбурова - Дорожные жалобы

Long till I walk in the light of
Then in a wheelchair , the top,
In the tent , then in a carriage ,
In the cart, then the foot?

Not hereditary den
Not in broad otcheskih graves
On the big me know the road
Die Lord judged

On a stone in the hoof ,
On the mountain under the wheel ,
Ile in the ditch , water blurred ,
Under the bridge dismantled .

Ile plague I will pick it up ,
Ile frost okostenit ,
Or my forehead slammed the barrier
Neprovorny disabled.

Or in the forest under the knife villain
Getting away ,
Or boredom about
Somewhere in quarantine.

Long till my yearning hunger
Post involuntary comply
And cold veal
Tryufli Yar remember ?

Whether it be in place ,
By driving around Butcher Street ,
About the village , the bride
At leisure to think !

What a difference a glass of rum,
Night sleep, morning tea ;
What a difference , my friends, at home! ..
Well, went well , drive ! ..