Lyrics Море у Поля - Стопом на Крым.
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The lyrics of the song are provided for your reference Море у Поля - Стопом на Крым., and also a translation of a song with a video or clip.
Не освежает нас «Бифитер» -
В эту ночь мы так убиты жарой!
Ты сидишь и вяжешь свитер,
А в окне напротив пир горой.
У нас совсем нет денег,
На «Мивине» уже несколько дней.
Я – гад и неврастеник,
Я люблю тебя за помесь кровей.
Я этим летом стал гордым -
Мне надоел этот дым.
И лучше было бы дёрнуть
Стопом на Крым.
А в эту пору года
Так оттяжно потусить на югах!
С нелепостью комода
Дефилировать на ватных ногах.
А здесь усохли реки,
Нет дождей, и опустели моря,
И все задраены отсеки,
И, наверное, остались мы зря.
Я этим летом стал гордым -
Мне надоел этот дым.
И лучше было бы дёрнуть
Стопом на Крым.
Внезапно стало страшно,
Этот город омерзительно мал.
Мне здесь давно всё ясно,
Я от этих лиц реально устал.
Оставь заученные фразы
Типа: «Как с тобой нам дальше жить?»
И, пусть твой свитер не довязан,
Я хотел бы кое-что предложить:
Я этим летом стал гордым –
Мне надоел этот дым.
Давай проснёмся и дёрнем
Стопом на Крым.
Bifiter does not refresh us -
That night we are so killed by heat!
You sit and knit a sweater
And in the window opposite the feast by mountain.
We have no money at all
On Mivin for several days.
I am a bastard and a neurasthenik,
I love you for a cross of blood.
This summer I became proud -
I am tired of this smoke.
And it would be better to pull
Stop to the Crimea.
And at this time of the year
So delayed to hang out in the south!
With the absurdity of a chest of drawers
Defile on cotton legs.
And here the rivers were drunk,
No rains, and the seas are empty
And all the compartments are lifted,
And, probably, we remained in vain.
This summer I became proud -
I am tired of this smoke.
And it would be better to pull
Stop to the Crimea.
Suddenly it became scary
This city is disgusting.
Everything is clear to me for a long time,
I am really tired of these persons.
Leave memorized phrases
Like: "How can we live with you further?"
And let your sweater not be tied,
I would like to offer something:
This summer I became proud -
I am tired of this smoke.
Let's wake up and pull
Stop to the Crimea.
That night we are so killed by heat!
You sit and knit a sweater
And in the window opposite the feast by mountain.
We have no money at all
On Mivin for several days.
I am a bastard and a neurasthenik,
I love you for a cross of blood.
This summer I became proud -
I am tired of this smoke.
And it would be better to pull
Stop to the Crimea.
And at this time of the year
So delayed to hang out in the south!
With the absurdity of a chest of drawers
Defile on cotton legs.
And here the rivers were drunk,
No rains, and the seas are empty
And all the compartments are lifted,
And, probably, we remained in vain.
This summer I became proud -
I am tired of this smoke.
And it would be better to pull
Stop to the Crimea.
Suddenly it became scary
This city is disgusting.
Everything is clear to me for a long time,
I am really tired of these persons.
Leave memorized phrases
Like: "How can we live with you further?"
And let your sweater not be tied,
I would like to offer something:
This summer I became proud -
I am tired of this smoke.
Let's wake up and pull
Stop to the Crimea.