Ваенга Елена - минус-Неформат
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Ваенга Елена - минус-Неформат - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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Я знаю, мама, ты не будешь против
Сама же пела песни в детстве мне
Пусть неформатные, зато понятные
Сердцу любимые, ну и вообще
А мы песню свою, бабоньки, оп, пропоём
Мужики не захотят, мужики заворчат
Ведь у них – "Чё?" да "Как?", да по осени покос
А у нас колхоз, на горе совхоз
Я знаю, папа, и ты не будешь против
Ты ж меня знаешь, да как же я смогу
Запеть форматные и непонятные
Сердцу не милые, ну и вообще
А мы песню свою, бабоньки, оп, пропоём
Мужики не захотят, мужички заворчат
Ведь у них – "Чё?", "Как?", да по осени покос
А у нас колхоз, на горе совхоз
На горе колхоз, под горой совхоз
А мне миленький задавал вопрос
Задавал вопрос, всё глядел в глаза
Ты ж колхозница, тебя любить нельзя
А я не знаю, ну кто здесь будет против
Пускай играет всю ночь аккордеон
Пусть неформатные, зато понятные
Сердцу любимые, ну и вообще
А мы песню свою, бабоньки, оп, пропоём
Мужики не захотят, мужики заворчат
Ведь у них – "Чё?", "Как?", да по осени покос
А у нас колхоз, на горе совхоз
I know, mom, you will not mind
She herself sang songs in childhood to me
Let it be informal, but understandable
Beloved hearts, well, in general
And we are our song, butterfly, OP, Sprinkle
Guys will not want, men will grumble
After all, they have "what?" yes "how?", Yes, in the fall, mowing
And we have a collective farm, on the grief of the state farm
I know, dad, and you will not mind
You know me, how can I
To sing formal and incomprehensible
The heart is not cute, well, and in general
And we are our song, butterfly, OP, Sprinkle
Guys will not want, peasants grumble
After all, they - "what?", "How?", But in the fall mowing
And we have a collective farm, on the grief of the state farm
On the mountain collective farm, under the mountain state farm
And my dear asked me a question
Asked a question, I looked in the eyes
You are a collective farmer, you can't love you
But I don't know, well, who will be against it here
Let it play an accordion all night
Let it be informal, but understandable
Beloved hearts, well, in general
And we are our song, butterfly, OP, Sprinkle
Guys will not want, men will grumble
After all, they - "what?", "How?", But in the fall mowing
And we have a collective farm, on the grief of the state farm
She herself sang songs in childhood to me
Let it be informal, but understandable
Beloved hearts, well, in general
And we are our song, butterfly, OP, Sprinkle
Guys will not want, men will grumble
After all, they have "what?" yes "how?", Yes, in the fall, mowing
And we have a collective farm, on the grief of the state farm
I know, dad, and you will not mind
You know me, how can I
To sing formal and incomprehensible
The heart is not cute, well, and in general
And we are our song, butterfly, OP, Sprinkle
Guys will not want, peasants grumble
After all, they - "what?", "How?", But in the fall mowing
And we have a collective farm, on the grief of the state farm
On the mountain collective farm, under the mountain state farm
And my dear asked me a question
Asked a question, I looked in the eyes
You are a collective farmer, you can't love you
But I don't know, well, who will be against it here
Let it play an accordion all night
Let it be informal, but understandable
Beloved hearts, well, in general
And we are our song, butterfly, OP, Sprinkle
Guys will not want, men will grumble
After all, they - "what?", "How?", But in the fall mowing
And we have a collective farm, on the grief of the state farm
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