Текст песни Чёрный Лукич - мы из кронштадта

I can stand on my foot - Black Lukich,
A finger across - dry lips.
The boy in the zip-pen is a little old man.
The green pipes rushed off the march.

  We are from Kronstadt,
  We are from Kronstadt ...

Near the toilet the Latvian shooter,
Red stars on a gray papakha.
Zorko looks, so he does not run away.
It is difficult to knit a loop from a shirt.

White feet on white snow,
The body is swollen, and everything is unclear.
There will be spring, and I will run away.
The voice is crispy, the stump is indistinct.
Leg to foot Black Lukich.
The mouth is across, dry lips.
A boy in a winter coat, a little old man.
The green pipes rushed off the march.

    We are from Kronstadt.
    We are from Kronstadt.