Мемориал - про лыжи
текст песни

At the snowdrifts ate headlong
The pulp covered the snow
And we have to with you
To call the skiing
There is a turn, and there is a ravine,
But together with a dexterous step
Let's go faster than in pairs
The road is not from the lungs
When I am with you, baby,
Two pairs of faithful skiing
To a log log house,
To the pipe of brick rough
There the banter
With your breath white
In the snowdrifts, the house has grown doors
There is an alcohol
We will drink from mugs together
With you under a hoarse wind
So that we dreamed of dreams at night
What children are dreaming.
When we, baby,
Screaming a jack of frisky skis
To a chain of sebaceous candle
And an old warm stove.
How quickly the wind rolled us up!
And to our arrival
The owner of the house ordered
Good weather
The Christmas tree shines to us with a star
Silver, brilliant,
And Santa Claus is there with a beard
Not cotton - real.
And the singing is waiting for us
And round dance, as in a fairy tale
Well, in the hallway for you and me
Salad hidden.
Such a holiday as here
You will not find in the city.
Everything is really here: mountains, forest,
Fire on the bonfire ...
And in the morning - put on, baby,
Rather, a couple of spicy skis.
Let's go back
So that soon neatly
Come on the schedule
O'clock in the o'clock to six,
The ski is stepping true
To the train first.