Текст песни Растеряев Игорь - Георгиевская ленточка

The spring forest flies outside the windows,
I'm going in the Leningrad train.
Opposite me a girl sits
With a St. George ribbon in a pigtail.

Today to wear this ribbon
On the bag you can, you can - in the form of a brooch,
But I remember very well without ribbons,
Like the grandmother did not throw crumbs.

How much superfluous we hear in the days of victories,
But only this patho with a bare
Those who at ten years old are not very believed
He ate mainly as a carpentry glue.

And time multiplies everything by zero,
Changes generation generation
And here the war of the heelled pain
It comes only with spring exacerbation.

Many are circling over this pain,
Like a raven, like a seagull ... and so glad
As if they want to snatch their piece
Concrete-heroic blockade.

I'm going on the train, I look at everything:
The window, on a girl with beautiful eyes,
And outside the window the soldiers are lying
And germinate with new forests ...

I am passing through ominous places:
Where a person is the main wealth of the subsoil,
Where, from the war, the fighters are lying -
Three on one square meter.

There are steps everywhere, there are voices,
Wonderful lights in swamps,
Shadows at night sing to you,
As if they were asking and wanting something:

"Dig me, brother, I am Vershinin Sanya!
The fifth mortar regiment, I myself am from Ryazan.
You saw a lot in the cinema about the soldiers of versions,
Right now you will listen to mine - eh, it will be more interesting. "

And they will begin to broadcast
In the language of groans, omissions.
If you want to run away, but they are ahead again
Flickers between the Christmas trees:

"Dig me soon, I beg you again.
I am Sergey Morshannikov, native to Pskov.
My address is transferred to my own side:
The eighteenth square, black funnel. "

And in the morning everything will roar, fly somewhere
And he will trample on the machine gun in a bayonet with obscenities.
And the trees are all upside down: roots grow upward
In this glorious combat place of crime ...

A clear corner is not a forest, but a fairy tale.
Stepped on the tubercle, looking, and this is a helmet ...
I dug a little, and here you are: a pot and a spoon,
And everyone needs this - Borch Berry.

I am over the Earth for a month, young and beautiful,
The train drives up to the Apraksin station.
In the sky, the caravan of geese, soon there will be summer.
The girl in her spit corrects the tape ...