Текст песни Irish Ёрш - Финское похмело
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Я горячий финский парень, я люблю колоть дрова,
Когда, после ночи пьяной, мучит похмело с утра.
Лучше бы опохмелится, да в избе ни капли нет,
А наш винный вот уж месяц как закрылся на обед.
Вдруг из леса вылезает к нам на хутор страшный тролль
И кругом распространяет отвратительную вонь.
Рассмотрел его поближе, вижу - русский алконавт.
Тащит мне бутылку водки, хочет пить на брудершафт.
Пили водку - окосели, явно водка из дерьма,
Видно буду всю неделю по утрам колоть дрова.
Я краснею, я бледнею, ну а русский хоть бы хны.
Подождал, пока сомлею, и украл мои штаны.
Я полдня за ним гонялся по деревне без штанов.
Он отчаянно ругался, дал мне в глаз и был таков.
Зеленея от досады, тут пошел я всем сказать:
"Никогда, друзья не надо утром с русскими бухать".
I'm a hot Finnish guy, I love chopping wood
When, after a night of drinking, you suffer from a hangover in the morning.
It would be better to get a hangover, but there’s not a drop in the hut,
And our wine shop has been closed for lunch for a month now.
Suddenly a terrible troll crawls out of the forest onto our farm
And spreads a disgusting stench all around.
I took a closer look at him, and I see that he is a Russian alkonaut.
He drags me a bottle of vodka, he wants to drink it for brotherhood.
They drank vodka - they went crazy, obviously vodka is made of shit,
Apparently I’ll be chopping wood in the mornings all week.
I blush, I turn pale, but the Russians at least have henna.
He waited until I was sleepy and stole my pants.
I spent half a day chasing him around the village without pants.
He cursed desperately, punched me in the eye and was gone.
Turning green with annoyance, I went to tell everyone:
“Never, friends, you shouldn’t drink with the Russians in the morning.”
When, after a night of drinking, you suffer from a hangover in the morning.
It would be better to get a hangover, but there’s not a drop in the hut,
And our wine shop has been closed for lunch for a month now.
Suddenly a terrible troll crawls out of the forest onto our farm
And spreads a disgusting stench all around.
I took a closer look at him, and I see that he is a Russian alkonaut.
He drags me a bottle of vodka, he wants to drink it for brotherhood.
They drank vodka - they went crazy, obviously vodka is made of shit,
Apparently I’ll be chopping wood in the mornings all week.
I blush, I turn pale, but the Russians at least have henna.
He waited until I was sleepy and stole my pants.
I spent half a day chasing him around the village without pants.
He cursed desperately, punched me in the eye and was gone.
Turning green with annoyance, I went to tell everyone:
“Never, friends, you shouldn’t drink with the Russians in the morning.”