Семен Слепаков - 8 марта - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

You say that I am a hopeless pig, unprincipled, unpromising, unsportscent, primitive, unfortunately positive pig. Unfopped and nasty, sexually weakly active, but a year there is one day, when even a pig is to become a worthy representative of men. Eighth of March, the eighth of March, try, fell, only the holiday does not arrange. In the eighth of March - Remember, Padla, you should look like a fabulous hero. Here I am going with a hairdresser in a golden jacket, for hire taken, in trousers of trend, second-hand, smooth, beautiful, young. No I am no longer a pig in the prince for you turned to you, and for a festive day there is today I have the whole necessary garbage: Flowers Oakka, puppy from plush postcard with the inscription "Love you, Tanya!" Martini Bianco and Raphaello, so that from the scale you really ohrenel, a pack of tutu for strengthening Niza, in the mouth of the chewing, in it the effect of marine breeze, the pants are put on not in the morning, and immediately before the very diet. Eighth Martha, the eighth of March, try, rubbish, only you only roll out. March 8, eighth of March, meet - your fabulous hero goes towards you. You left the door, immediately measured, I froze in shock as a somnambula, the dress was frustrated, I went to me in the hallway on the floor I took me. And then the pants on me put in me, you whispered: "Go away, my lion! Right now my pig is primitive and kills you, my love! Primitive pig, untidy, that with which, unfortunately, we are a family ... "Eighth of March, the eighth of March, I took you from the hospital in a year, the eighth of March, the eighth of March, someone's holiday, and for us - on the contrary .