Текст песни Не будите спящих - В руках стынет водочка

There is a snack on the table, vodka freezes in the hands,
The boys drive the flu in the Russian way.
Every burnt wolf here knows the price of malt,
From the closet to the chiffonier they took out from the young.
Young, young, young, green
Here Valera Sebastianov and Kolyunya Severny.
North, north, frost and taiga ...
The beloved chastised them, dragged them.
The music sounds louder, the accordion ...
The motive is familiar, the motive is simple.
Our Russian people will always find poison
To continue the holiday with the boys!

Music is flowing, music, music,
That sadness, and then fun.
Someone quietly playing the pipe
Under which the Earth circles!

Music is pouring, music, music
And in the century will not tire of circling.
Infinite, eternal, wise,
From which you want to live so much.

Spilled blue on the porches and yards,
From sunset to dawn, heart to heart conversations.
Someone’s name day, someone’s farewell,
Who bruises every day, not needing occasion.
Malt from a young warm from the cold,
They wear blue noses and do not shave their beards.
From local Valera to thin Tolik
There are alcoholics on every street.
The Slavic people love bitter water,
Everyone gathered at the table.
Dancing, partying, and folk songs ...

Music is flowing, music, music,
That sadness, and then fun.
Someone quietly playing the pipe
Under which the Earth circles!

Music is pouring, music, music
And in the century will not tire of circling.
Infinite, eternal, wise,
From which you want to live so much.