Текст песни Игорь Растеряев - Плясовая

Oh, edrit-pounding!
Tired grieve so sad!
It is necessary to compose a song, write,
Just to dance under it.
To till the morning
In the wild dance ushatatsya "in the wood"
To sing along could literally any.
And instead of words - one crown motif.

Bryansk and Izhevsk
Suddenly woke up and dance already.
Even squatting grandfather went
This means: the old man good.
Tver and Rostov
Understand this song without words.
A Th split hairs, then? Then write, do not write:
Words do not need to dance in the Russian soul!

And somewhere out there
They will ask: "What's that noise, what a din?"
And it is just that we are going in a fur hat
With the balalaika and manual medvedёm!
And then we can in the tank
On tour - in the town of Washington.
We are, perhaps, there are already tired of waiting
And the dream of the great courage.

Oh, edrit-pounding!
Tired grieve so sad!
It is necessary to compose a song, write,
Just to dance under it.
To burn till morning
And in a wild dance ushatatsya "in the wood."
To sing along could literally anyone
Words are not necessary - only motive groovy ...