Lyrics Нателла Болтянская - Баллада о солдате и трубадуре

Listen, throw you this line,
She is not a shield and not the mail,
In the morning a random girlfriend
Takes pennies, not the words!
That - the ringing of the string - the rescue of the world,
When you make merit,
When in the night rings elastically
The last songwriter.

I walked from war and on the road
I was looking for wine, not couples ...
I took a jug into two coins
I do not find in your pocket of three ...
I and you Nalu, poor,
After all, you and two, there is no two
Although your name is a poet
For me - you are just empty.

But your voice, deaf and strict,
In me a sprouted herbal grass
I was filled with a bone black
Long-lost fighting ...
In me - your lines sounded,
I walked with you a trop
I somehow lived so far, but
I lacked these words

I will give everything - horse and lats,
And your wallet, empty and skinny,
My old world is how simpler,
Here the blood changes for copper ...
Don't make me winged
And do not call me to the square,
Where the wind flags pokes,
So that tomorrow - death my fight ...