алина субота - алина субота
текст песни

But I don't want to look for a long time
On this someone else's horizon ...
The scorching sun went behind the mosque
Kobzon went to Russia.

He sang to us Vysotsky and corrected
His then bent the wig
And we sang ... when you fell
From the cliffs - I cried, the old man.

How rarely there are such hours
When the bullet does not beat the song,
But wounds for them will not have time to cool -
And in the evening again hike.

And after the battle, I was crying, I could not
And the hands were shaking seen ...
I saw like (Vizzkina) in the zinc coffin
The remains carried to bury ...

And there have a string of grass
And in it - an anthill - Cartridge ...
Strike-countryman, a bright head,
Dustzhanov looked like raven.

But the stupid bullet broke through the temple -
And the ring nodded his head ...
And the mother asked for: "Nicholes, son!
Tell me that you will come back! .. "

In Afghan today good news:
The order came out - coming home!
But the heart will remain mentally here
And there is no joy that alive.

I will come to Tver from the Afghan fields -
Here, at home, warmth and light ...
And only I will open the familiar door -
I will say: "Mom, you are lucky ..