Текст песни Иван Кучин - Босяцкая лирическая

E on!

Oh, come on, carried away to hell in the backyard.
What a house, what with a white table with skatёrkoy
Not casual, not with the blood of good hops
playing
Parties debris bosota walks!
Parties debris bosota walks!

I tramp of vagrants, and I do not care right
What shampoo that brandy,
all the same, the poison
Pei-walk until the morning, drink until enough
Parties debris bosota walks!
Parties debris bosota walks!

Garden of roses and money, WHO, sonorous guitar
Everything went down the drain, all is lost
for nothing
But do not pity any dick, let everything disappears

Parties debris bosota walks!
Parties debris bosota walks!

What are we to bottom, long ago, our song is sung.
All of us agreed in bright rooms.
Life did not go yesterday, the death of us
It does not scare
Parties debris bosota walks!
Parties debris bosota walks!

Both on!

There!

As dopёm as dead men, no whining,
crying
The coffin shagnёm barefoot, oh, you're life
bosyachya
Suffer from the yard, no tears SRON
Parties debris bosotu buried!
Parties debris bosotu buried!
Parties garbage, but burying bosotu!
Parties garbage, but burying bosotu!