Текст песни
My tea's gone cold, I wondering why I got out of bed at all
The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be grey, but your picture on my wall
It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad
Первый Куплет: Баста
Моя игра за эти годы стала супер игрой.
Проходя за уровнем уровень, стал собой супергерой.
Ростов-он-Дон, многорайонный Армагеддон,
Я далеко, но мы под одним небом с тобой мой район.
Солнце спит за облаками – бледно-жёлтое пятно.
Мы играем в «Битлов», делаем музло.
Когда-то давно, на беспонтовом компе мы сделали то,
Что другим не удалось на "Abbey Road" в Лондоне.
Конечно, было бы круче с кучей бабла,
Но счастливый случай заставил нас все начать с нуля.
Немного труда, вернее много труда.
Бог даст, брат, будет хлеб и вода.
Увы, мои стихи не пишет старина Берилл,
И с клира их народу не прочтет Патриарх Кирилл.
И Саша Пушкин, в поэзии - мерило из мерил,
Не сможет оценить мой слог, real или не real.
Покажи им сестра!
Припев: Полина Гагарина
My tea's gone cold, I wondering why I got out of bed at all
The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be grey, but your picture on my wall
It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad
I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life
Oh just to be with you is having the best day of my life
Перевод песни
My tea's gone cold, I wondering why I got out of bed at all
The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be gray, but your picture on my wall
It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad
Verse One: Basta
My game over the years has become a super game.
Passing the level level, he became a superhero.
Rostov-on-Don, multi-district Armageddon,
I am far away, but under the same sky we are with you my area.
The sun is sleeping behind the clouds - a pale yellow spot.
We play The Beatles, make muzlo.
Once upon a time, on a bespontovy computer we did what
What others failed on Abbey Road in London.
Of course it would be cooler with a bunch of dough,
But a happy accident made us all start from scratch.
A little work, or rather a lot of work.
God give, brother, there will be bread and water.
Alas, my poems are not written by old Beryl,
And from the clergy, their people will not be read by Patriarch Kirill.
And Sasha Pushkin, in poetry - the measure of the measure,
Will not be able to appreciate my syllable, real or not real.
Show them sister!
Chorus: Polina Gagarina
My tea's gone cold, I wondering why I got out of bed at all
The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be gray, but your picture on my wall
It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad
I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life
Oh just to be with you is having the best day of my life
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