Михаил Воровской - Бутырская
текст песни

the walls are gray, the towers are old
striped window looks at the sky
here are the stages and crazy bunks
yes, sewn boards are on point
again I'm in the capital's central
where history is set in stone
for some people everything is great here
and for some - a damp grave
echo will run along the corridor
The turntable will jingle a bunch of keys
We tramps have no time for laughter now -
We are waiting for the little ones and warm nights

eh, Butyrskaya, Butyrskaya
the towers look gloomy, sternly
here everyone has a thieves', lost road
eh, Butyrskaya, central old woman
hold tight, don't let go
just don't break our spirit
you yourself, Butyrka, know

There's smoke in the house like a rocker
we chase the gray-haired chifir in a circle
and someone scratches the little one with a thought
How is it, in the wild, my birth threshold?
the prosecutor asked me for a tag
supposedly especially dangerous for everyone
the judge measured out ten, didn’t ask
recording an old sin on me
oh well, let's sit back and see you
all our lads will gather
we are not childishly offended by life
and prove that the will is right

eh, Butyrskaya, Butyrskaya
the towers look gloomy, sternly
here everyone has a thieves', lost road
eh, Butyrskaya, central old woman
hold tight, don't let go
just don't break our spirit
you yourself, Butyrka, know