Текст песни ГАФТ - Дело привычки

The bird fluttered,
The bowstring jumped
With rustling flies into the milk
Arrow.

To the ancient pine tree prilik
Smiling childish smile
Old man.

Pass my, passed it
Of the year,
And die
Nobody is used to it.

Smiling childish smile
Old man,
A bird is flying.

Matter of habit,
Simple algorithms inscribed in the blood
Matter of habit!
We can not understand each other without words.

Come on a familiar tram
To me
In the morning milk mist
Fly
Towards the sun, maybe
Heaven.
Late?
I will not be late!
It is necessary to go out in advance
At the right time
In the right place
The right word
In an unnecessary song.

Matter of habit,
Simple algorithms inscribed in the blood
Matter of habit!
We can not understand each other without words.