Ольга Макеева - Суббота-блюз - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Give me your hand, sit down next to me, get a look at boredom. Without anger, without flattery - you are a new guest by right, by honor. How absurdly we lived - either storms, then sat! Without knowing Saturday, not knowing peace, everyone was waiting for something. But, having met, the vehicle winds had been guaranteed, and it turned out so glorious, my Balovoy Balovoy, my thought is a longtime. Become a brother, become a husband, stand nearby, I need your quiet voice so that the pain split and fragments come out. So that with meat, so that with blood, in order to pour in love all our worries from the refectory bowl of the sacred Saturday.