Текст песни Канцлер Ги - Моя соперница

Why do I go on a visit,
To get on ball I try?
I'm sitting there like a little fool,
Careless pretending.
He is mine by right, incense,
But only they flatter her:
Still, I'm seventeen years old,
And She's fifty.

I can not help shaming,
And he paints without demand
Me to the tips of my fingernails,
And then the tip of the nose;
She is, where necessary, there is white
And there it is red, where it is necessary:
Blush is windy, but true
Under fifty lipsticks.

Oh, I would color Her face,
Could I without care
To murmur a sweet little thing,
And do not play music notes.
She's sharp, and I'm boring,
I'm sitting, looking down.
Well, as luck would have it, seventeen me,
And She's fifty.

Elegant young men crowd
She is crowded around her;
They look in love, though She
He's good at grandmothers.
To her stroller - not to mine -
Attachments are in a hurry;
All why? Seventeen to me,
And She's fifty.

But it's not always like that!
Years will pass,
She will be drawn to rest,
Forget the game, fashion ...
I shine a future ray,
I argue simply:
Hurry to me half a fifty,
To her at ninety.