Додоцкий - Патриотическая - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I woke up in an electric train without a wallet and shoes, and for some reason my head hurt very much. And I said: "I love you, my Russia."

Saint Russia, keep Orthodox faith, okay, alive and well - the most important thing. I will go to the platform, buy cigarettes in a laurel. Oh, hello guys, well, you would have removed sharpening, I’m a normal guy, I have been working at a cement plant, and I gave my homeland to my homeland - Kirza trampled for two years, I got three boxes of Gutalin. And I am a patriot, I love Kalina’s compote, kvass, birch sap and beer, I introduce water from Russian swamps intravenously to become closer to the ground, wise and sensitive. Every year, life becomes better - they used to huddle in the huts of the clay, and now even in our schist, an unlimited, round -the -clock store and paid parking. So now it’s awkward to scold power, it is clear that everyone is busy with business, progress does not stand still. In school years, money was barely enough for a sausage in the test, and now I went to work and I can even afford a smartphone - is this not a celebration of Russian will? If it weren’t Putin, we wouldn’t have anything at all, the Wright’s plane would not have risen into the sky, the first squeak had never shot and the first stone ax in the forest b entered the forest, there was no speech, and nobody would have any nobody. I listened, and the ancient fish would not go on land. And those who are now scolding power, serving in the office, would have swam not even in the sea, but in an alkaline solution. The Americans are damned fagots, I hate, the level of morality falls below every day. Yes, it is they who are guilty of corrupting the younger generation of Russian citizens. I believe that morality is important, in the Union, although they suffered deprivation, but up to twenty virgins were more in percentage ratio. I’ll go out in the morning for the haymaking, I’ll throw a quilted jacket, in a knapsack - a loaf, a pilate pipe. Lungegus walk around the field - I feel good, I'm Russian. And Russian bread - it from time immemorial is everywhere in honor. Oh guys, well, why do you beat me? Why are you trying to stick this chisel in my larynx? Maybe you just lack national identity?