Текст песни Петр Федчун и Алексей Ильинчик - Туристская-сиротская

I was born in a wet tent.
There was cold and wild frost.
A drunk instructor in the storm furtively
I took all my diapers.

I was eating milf
With longing, I was slobbering.
A drunk instructor ate my porridge
And my nipples drank

I grew up legged and pale.
I walked, ringing with oil.
A drunk instructor is insidious and harmful
Butts stewed about me

Three years I was born
Rickets I suffered terribly
A drunk instructor without a shadow of doubt
My backpack worn on me

Six hundred kilometers hungry
I walked barefoot in the taiga
A drunk instructor with a wicked smile
I was poking my fist

With the strain all torn belly
Do not help doctors
A drunk instructor, especially for cargo
I put the bricks in my backpack

Years passed. I bought money,
I myself bought a tent.
A drunk instructor, a cattle damn,
She was stolen and drunk

I grew up unhappy, but proud.
Once I chose an hour,
Instructor drunk right under the face
Tucked the smelly sock

A creepy and nasal stench
No one would be able to endure
And a drunk instructor from this hell
First time to sober up

And with a clear piercing look
He left my image alive
And suddenly the instructor whispered to me reproachfully:
"So you are my son's son"

And then I forgot all the hardships
And I realized, as if in a dream
What a drunken instructor all the long years
Daddy needs me

There is no need to restrain tears,
And, full of sweet melancholy,
We, embracing the instructor, amicably
We went to drink backpacks.