Текст песни Бутырка - Какая осень в лагерях

Grandmother shawls draped in September cold on the bench,
But in the camps without fuss Tale pretend jackets.
Is busy spinning foliage, rain washes away all that was,
And our years of safe zone had buried forever.

What a fall in the camps, throwing leaves on zapretku,
And I scream shout Shnyrev, let them lay another week.
Broom autumn do not drive, it came not as a punishment,
We have this autumn as a mother, with her short visit.

Autumn clothe her outfit, from the leaves yellow and crimson.
Again, our second squad from this autumn a little drunk.
And the leaves are circled, and so we forget about everything,
Pull your hands to catch them like little kids.

Cops wrapped in cloaks, and where the songs of the accordion.
Cool off from the heat zone, relatives gather potatoes,
And a date haste without violating the order,
And we'll just wait for them, osoznovaya hopelessness.