Lyrics Хельги Патаки - Ищут военные ищет милиция...

They are looking for the military, looking for the police,
All precinct of our capital
Looking for a long time, but can not find
Hippies of some twenty years.
Medium height, with large hairs
He hangs around the capital courtyards,
Sleeps with friends and in the front
Baubles bunch on his hands.
Every Friday - believe-not-believe
He seisenit in transitions on the flute.
Ksivnik hangs on his chest
No longer know anything about him.

Drove once in the breech cars
The ensign is important - no one knows.
Rode in the spring from the draft board,
A song sang from a simple mat.
Near him on the seat on the right
We also went in the order of the statute:
Five privates on active duty,
Three machine gunners, just for friendship,
Two witnesses with a beard and a mustache
And the precinct in the family shorts.

Here drive up, adjusting the caps,
To the entrance of a shabby high-rise building
Exactly on schedule - eight in the morning.
All come undone, it's time to exit!
Came out quietly, fell - wrung out,
Quickly on the first-second paid off
And, keeping order and order,
Together, upstairs ran crowd.
Third floor and fourth and fifth -
Lift call can not guys -
Apartment number is similar, and now
Ensign quietly pounding on the door.

Down there, in the farthest corner
The hippie was quietly dozing on the floor.
He dreamed that he smoked a hookah
Somewhere in the country of strawberry fields
Nearby are sandwiches and buns,
They run in gerls' festive flares ...
Only through a dream he suddenly heard
There was a suspicious knock at the door.

Hippie fumbled his shirt
And in English he asked: Hu and yu?
Hears in response: Do not swear Tale!
We are real hippies, one or two,
We hitchhiked here
You let us in for a couple of minutes.
We do not live close by ourselves
Do you hear? Let's go, cool list -
All for free - outfit and grub.
We can write you two years.

Hippie said: very dumb guys
They go there often from the military office,
So look that the fighters will come
Together with me and you notice.
This people are no good,
You can light up on this flat
Better let's score the arrow
Near Elvis at noon in the corner.

Ensign scratches his head in doubt
Three machine gunners in bewilderment,
All confer among themselves
And the precinct shakes his head:
This, comrade, is unknown to us -
What is there Elvis and where is this place?
What is the arrow? We will not understand
Is this some kind of tavern?

Not! - Hippie responds to them, - get-together.
What, praporyugs, the trick did not come out?
Every normal hippar without la-la
Knows where Elvis is and where Gogol is!

Ensign announces the order to everyone:
Quickly knock the door on time -
Quickly built! Together with me
All fled - head forward.

Throwing his flute and spoon in his pocket
The guy rushed soon to the window
I climbed out onto the narrow cornice,
Hold tight, so as not to overturn down.
You can hear the door shaking,
Hippie forward along the cornice rushing
Step - stop, and now he
Got out almost to the neighbor's balcony.

The door of the ram has already collapsed,
Three machine gunners, as partisans,
Rushed inside. Followed them
Ensign rushes, taking out a gun.
Five privates near the door in ambush,
Two witnesses - like passers-by uncle,
And the precinct in the family shorts
All hid with fright in his eyes.

Seen grandmother, sitting below -
Something shaggy went on the bottom
That and the balcony and the pipe in front -
This is still half the way.
Fenka broke, confused hayer -
Hippie crawling barely audible sighing
Mike and jacket stained himself,
Down the drain curve.

Pancake! - say machine guns together
There are no evaders detected.
All inspected, and even closet -
In addition to steers, there is no evasion!
Ensign goes round three times again -
Looks under the bathroom and under the toilet,
In addition to the poster & quot; Kirkorov - mast give! & Quot;
No one, even epaulettes bite!
Here he is sadly coming to the window
Spat there mate