Lyrics ГЕНЕРАЛЫ ДВОРОВ - КАЛИНА
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А в могилах лежат генералы,
Их страна для себя потеряла,
Генералы дворов и воров,
Атаманы лихих пацанов.
Дорога дальняя, тюрьма центральная,
Колода с картами, казенный дом.
Кому - "Бутырка" на две версты,
Кому - могилка, кому - кресты.
На тихих кладбищах лежат устало
Лихие пацаны - все генералы.
И плачут матери у их могил
И просят Бога, чтобы простил.
А по тюрьмам сидят генералы,
Их страна для себя потеряла.
Генералы дворов и воров,
Атаманы лихих пацанов.
Генералы, осталось вас мало:
Всё по тюрьмам да по централам.
Генералы в законе, но вы
На полях беспредела слегли.
А линия судьбы тонкая, как нить.
Цыганка с картами гадала долго жить.
Кому - копеечка, кому-то - нары,
Но день за три у генералов.
И рвались ниточки, и судьбы рвались.
И в лагерях, как сталь, мы закалялись.
Кто пал от пули, кто от ножа,
И тысячи парней в земле лежат.
Их страна для себя потеряла,
Генералы дворов и воров,
Атаманы лихих пацанов.
Дорога дальняя, тюрьма центральная,
Колода с картами, казенный дом.
Кому - "Бутырка" на две версты,
Кому - могилка, кому - кресты.
На тихих кладбищах лежат устало
Лихие пацаны - все генералы.
И плачут матери у их могил
И просят Бога, чтобы простил.
А по тюрьмам сидят генералы,
Их страна для себя потеряла.
Генералы дворов и воров,
Атаманы лихих пацанов.
Генералы, осталось вас мало:
Всё по тюрьмам да по централам.
Генералы в законе, но вы
На полях беспредела слегли.
А линия судьбы тонкая, как нить.
Цыганка с картами гадала долго жить.
Кому - копеечка, кому-то - нары,
Но день за три у генералов.
И рвались ниточки, и судьбы рвались.
И в лагерях, как сталь, мы закалялись.
Кто пал от пули, кто от ножа,
И тысячи парней в земле лежат.
And in the graves lie generals,
Their country for themselves has lost,
Generals of yards and thieves,
Atamans of dashing boys.
The road is far, the prison is central,
A deck with cards, a state house.
Who - & quot; Butyrka & quot; two versts,
To whom is the grave, to whom are the crosses.
In quiet cemeteries lie tired
Dashing boys are all generals.
And mothers cry at their graves
And they ask God to forgive.
And the prisons are occupied by generals,
Their country for themselves has lost.
Generals of yards and thieves,
Atamans of dashing boys.
Generals, there are few of you left:
All of the prisons and the central.
Generals in the law, but you
Caught in the fields of lawlessness.
And the line of destiny is thin, like a thread.
A gypsy with fortune-telling cards lived a long time.
Who - a penny, someone - bunks,
But three days from the generals.
And the threads were torn, and fate was torn.
And in the camps, like steel, we were tempered.
Who fell from the bullet, who is from the knife,
And thousands of guys in the earth are lying.
Their country for themselves has lost,
Generals of yards and thieves,
Atamans of dashing boys.
The road is far, the prison is central,
A deck with cards, a state house.
Who - & quot; Butyrka & quot; two versts,
To whom is the grave, to whom are the crosses.
In quiet cemeteries lie tired
Dashing boys are all generals.
And mothers cry at their graves
And they ask God to forgive.
And the prisons are occupied by generals,
Their country for themselves has lost.
Generals of yards and thieves,
Atamans of dashing boys.
Generals, there are few of you left:
All of the prisons and the central.
Generals in the law, but you
Caught in the fields of lawlessness.
And the line of destiny is thin, like a thread.
A gypsy with fortune-telling cards lived a long time.
Who - a penny, someone - bunks,
But three days from the generals.
And the threads were torn, and fate was torn.
And in the camps, like steel, we were tempered.
Who fell from the bullet, who is from the knife,
And thousands of guys in the earth are lying.