Текст песни Вайкуле Лайма - Скрипач На Крыше

Someone gives us the talent we do not appreciate
Oh, how the musician playing on the sublunary scene
Called his violin in the world, he is holy and pure
But there was a guitarist in love with our city
Fiddler on the roof of my sad violinist
Fiddler on the Roof remember me
Fiddler on the Roof strings sad crying
Again I hear every dream
There was neither vain nor proud he was a virtuoso
But the people laughed too serious
So it is far from us on a high roof
We almost did not hear his music
Judge and executioner standing we had executed
City left the violinist became cheerless city
Somewhere I am playing guitar in the darkness and alarm
The distance on the road went Artist
Fiddler on the roof of my sad violinist
Fiddler on the Roof remember me
Fiddler on the Roof strings sad crying
Again I hear every dream
Fiddler on the roof of my sad violinist
Fiddler on the Roof remember me
Fiddler on the Roof strings sad crying
Again I hear every dream