Lyrics Антон Духовской - Вишневый твист
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Вишневый твист
Ты зовешь его, наверное, “Ясень”.
Говоришь ему: “Смотри, вот и осень!”
И ответ твой – он давно уже ясен.
Мы с тобой не повстречаемся вовсе.
Я на рынке не потребую сдачу.
Я куплю себе ведро спелой вишни.
Я давлю ее губами и плачу,
Что и в этот раз для счастья я лишний.
Вот и стаяло погожее лето,
Как в кармане шоколадная плитка.
Я пою еще, но песенка спета!
Ты – последняя, как видно, попытка.
Мне не встретить уж июльских закатов,
Не услышать соловьиного свиста...
Но чтоб в этой жизни выжить мне как-то –
Напеваю я мелодию твиста.
И мотивчик этот – правда! – прекрасен...
Раз– два– три– четыре– пять–
шесть– семь– восемь...
Ты зовешь его, наверное, “Ясень”.
Говоришь ему: “Смотри, вот и осень!”
Я уж как-нибудь там да успокоюсь!
Буду в Будду верить или же в Вишну.
А пока что – черт возьми, что такое?! –
Я реву и ем за вишнею вишню.
Ты зовешь его, наверное, “Ясень”...
Говоришь ему: “Смотри, вот и осень...”
И ответ твой – он давно уже ясен.
Мы с тобой не повстречаемся вовсе.
Но на гибкую пластиночку голос
Запиши. И – если вспомнишь – то вышли!
Что прибавится? Седой один волос.
Что останется? Во рту – привкус вишни...
Cherry twist
You call him, probably, "Ash".
You say to him: "Look, here is autumn!"
And your answer - it has long been clear.
We will not meet at all.
I'm not going to demand a change in the market.
I'll buy myself a bucket of ripe cherries.
I press her lips and cry,
That this time for happiness, I'm superfluous.
So the summer was getting better,
As in a pocket chocolate tile.
I sing more, but the song is sung!
You are the last, apparently, attempt.
I did not meet the July sunsets,
Do not hear the nightingale whistle ...
But in order to survive in this life somehow,
I sing the melody of the twist.
And this tune is true! - it's beautiful ...
One, two, three, four, five-
Six seven-eight ...
You call him, probably, "Ash".
You say to him: "Look, here is autumn!"
I'll settle down there somehow!
I will believe in the Buddha or in Vishnu.
In the meantime, what the hell is that ?! -
I'm roaring and eating for cherry cherry.
You call him, probably, "Ash" ...
You say to him: "Look, here is the autumn ..."
And your answer - it has long been clear.
We will not meet at all.
But on a flexible voice plate
Write it down. And - if you remember - then left!
What will increase? Gray hair alone.
What will remain? In the mouth - the taste of cherries ...
You call him, probably, "Ash".
You say to him: "Look, here is autumn!"
And your answer - it has long been clear.
We will not meet at all.
I'm not going to demand a change in the market.
I'll buy myself a bucket of ripe cherries.
I press her lips and cry,
That this time for happiness, I'm superfluous.
So the summer was getting better,
As in a pocket chocolate tile.
I sing more, but the song is sung!
You are the last, apparently, attempt.
I did not meet the July sunsets,
Do not hear the nightingale whistle ...
But in order to survive in this life somehow,
I sing the melody of the twist.
And this tune is true! - it's beautiful ...
One, two, three, four, five-
Six seven-eight ...
You call him, probably, "Ash".
You say to him: "Look, here is autumn!"
I'll settle down there somehow!
I will believe in the Buddha or in Vishnu.
In the meantime, what the hell is that ?! -
I'm roaring and eating for cherry cherry.
You call him, probably, "Ash" ...
You say to him: "Look, here is the autumn ..."
And your answer - it has long been clear.
We will not meet at all.
But on a flexible voice plate
Write it down. And - if you remember - then left!
What will increase? Gray hair alone.
What will remain? In the mouth - the taste of cherries ...