Текст песни Олег Митяев авт.Ю.Визбор - Ах, какая пропажа

Oh, what a loss
muses. and sl. Yuri Vizbora

 Dm Gm
Oh, what a loss - the winter was gone!
        A Dm
But do not chase her north.
  Dm Gm
Dying snow, the waters go crazy,
     C7 F
And April sowed his songs,
         A B
Well, what about me? - this is not given to me.
      Gm A B D7
Do not give me neither autumn nor summer,
     Gm Dm
Give me February - three pines under the window
     A Dm
And the sunset, blown out by the wind.

The strip along the forests of gold lay down,
The wind at the door scratched like a tramp,
I'll sit quietly by the edge of the table,
To anybody neither in hope, nor in burden.
Everyone looks at you - I look at one thing,
As in the distance she sails with a corvette
My merry February - three pines under the window
And the sunset, blown out by the wind.

Oh, how little I've done on this earth!
Not baptized, not learned, not overworked,
It does not look like a storm, it is not like a rock,
Only children and mother need,
Well, what are you all about the movie, about the movie -
Life is not over, the song is not sung,
There you are, brothers, February - three pines under the window
And the sunset, blown out by the wind.

I swear at least on the Bible, even on the cross,
That was born not for trifles:
Either write me Christ on a stiff canvas,
Is it magic to look for a stone.
My dear, wine is not guilty,
The fire is not vetoed,
And February is guilty - three pines under the window
And the sunset, blown out by the wind.

You look at me, as if you are looking for something,
You grab for any word,
As if you want to find my way
What you call love,
But in the soul this matter is noticeable,
As if crying at night is irresponsible,
There is a raging february - three pines under the window
And the sunset, blown out by the wind.