Текст песни Красный Смех - Воздухоплаватели

balloonists
Silently standing. Airships are pressed to the ground.
It's hard to say goodbye to the planet - is not the time of year.
Ah, the pull is too strong in September.
Now non-flying weather.

And somewhere out there
Earth's stratosphere open doors name
Wear self-made hats and pull off.
Faster, faster, until he sees the mother.

balloonists
In the smoke-filled cabin waiting and looking out the window
In the never-ending rain of vzlёtnym field.
Maps of the constellations were asleep in the pockets of the coat,
Subsided steel motors ...

balloonists
Laugh at the thunder, washed down with whiskey rum,
Above the cloud pitching, climbing the mast
Air their ships.
And the sky familiar as childhood yard,
And the sun - a small ball in his hands,
And the smell of "Artek" heavenly sea.
Hay!

balloonists,
Waiting start, always ready upward,
On the faded picture of the early twentieth century.
These balloons have not yet risen.
We start the countdown.