Текст песни Е. Амирамов - Я самый худший из сынов,Ты лучшая из мам.

When to make amends for sins I was closed uphill
Thief young Arthur sat there and wrote poetry
And two lines from a swarm of words as if threw us
I'm the worst of sons, you're the best of moms

You will understand everything and stay with me to the end
And knowing the scoundrel’s son, you say dear
You forgive me everything without words, I am also stubborn
I'm the worst of sons, you're the best of moms

All life is some kind of paradox, and maybe absurdity
Either dancing, then love, then boxing - freedom or judgment
I’m ready to give everything in a row, then it’s a pity even a gram
I'm the worst of sons, you're the best of moms

Now stones everywhere, now sand, now into water, now into fire
The crowd is terribly lonely, then the scent, then the stink
That day as night, then night without dreams, all life in half
I'm the worst of sons, you're the best of moms

Then you roll through life, then you feel the rise again
That from the trifle became limp, but vice versa
Do not explain, I myself know everything without your words
The best of all mothers has the worst son of sons