Текст песни Анжела Адонина - Какой-нибудь предок мой был-скрипач

Some ancestor of mine was - a violinist,
The rider and the thief in this case.
Is it because my character Stray
And the hair smell the wind!

Did not he, dark, steals with carts
My hand - apricots,
The culprit passionate of my fate,
Curled and a hooked nose.

Marveling at the plowman for plow
Rotisserie between lips - rose.
Poor fellow, he was - a dashing
And caressing a lover!

Amateur tube, moon and beads,
And all the young neighbors ...
I also think that - coward
It was my yellow-eyed ancestor.

What the hell soul sold for a penny,
He did not go to the cemetery at midnight!
I also think that the knife
He wore his boot.

What's one of the corner
He jumped - a cat - a flexible ...
And somehow I knew,
What did he - did not play the violin!

And it was all uneasy -
As the snow last year - summer!
So my ancestor was a violinist.
I began - so the poet.