Lyrics Дмитрий Курцман - Песня карлика Бориса
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Отец мой честный фермер был,
Оставил мне деньжат...
А я все по ветру пустил,
И пропил дом и сад.
И стало медью серебро,
А золото - золой.
Бродягой сделали меня
Вино и "подкидной" !
Меня до городу довел
Попутный караван,
Но плохо в городе жилье,
Когда пустой карман,
Когда течет один сапог,
И дождь стоит стеной,
Я ковыляю по мосту,
Горбатый и хмельной !
Я мог бы честным жить трудом,
Я мог бы стать шутом,
Смешить людей своим горбом,
Пугать беззубым ртом,
И за кормежку и ночлег
В портовом кабаке
Пиликать простенький мотив
В дурацком колпаке !
Но нет! Я слабый и больной,
Подкиньте мне монет,
А нет - я к вам приду домой,
Когда вас дома нет,
И, может, ножичком пырну,
Укрыв лицо плащем
Во тьме, на улице кривой,
Под проливным дождем...
My father was an honest farmer,
Left me some money ...
And I let everything go in the wind
And he drank the house and the garden.
And silver became copper
And gold is ash.
Tramp made me
Wine and & quot; flip & quot; & # 33;
Brought me to the city
Associated Caravan
But bad housing in the city,
When an empty pocket
When one boot flows
And the rain stands a wall
I stumble across the bridge
Humpbacked and Intoxicated & # 33;
I could live honest work
I could be a jester
Make people laugh with their hump
To scare a toothless mouth
And for feeding and overnight
In the port tavern
Saw a simple motive
In a wacky cap & # 33;
But no & # 33; I'm weak and sick
Throw me some coins
But no - I’ll come to you home,
When you are not at home
And maybe with a knife I kick
Covering my face with a cloak
In the darkness, the street is crooked
In the pouring rain ...
Left me some money ...
And I let everything go in the wind
And he drank the house and the garden.
And silver became copper
And gold is ash.
Tramp made me
Wine and & quot; flip & quot; & # 33;
Brought me to the city
Associated Caravan
But bad housing in the city,
When an empty pocket
When one boot flows
And the rain stands a wall
I stumble across the bridge
Humpbacked and Intoxicated & # 33;
I could live honest work
I could be a jester
Make people laugh with their hump
To scare a toothless mouth
And for feeding and overnight
In the port tavern
Saw a simple motive
In a wacky cap & # 33;
But no & # 33; I'm weak and sick
Throw me some coins
But no - I’ll come to you home,
When you are not at home
And maybe with a knife I kick
Covering my face with a cloak
In the darkness, the street is crooked
In the pouring rain ...