Виталий Иванов - Буги уставших людей
текст песни

Don't shoot the pianist
He plays as best he can
Don't shoot the
Pianist
He's a poor guy
Black man
Have it your way
Master
Let him help
God
Pour quickly
To the full
We're here until the morning, it seems
God

We're tired like
Devils
We're from the lower reaches of
Colorado
We've been without
Women for two months
This night is for us
As a reward
Make music
Simpler
Forget about serenades
Make some killer music
We don't need any jazz

Hey, master, where's the singer
We want Mary
To sing
We've been without women for two months
And we want to move
Our bodies
Here's where we washed up some gold
Well, how much is our business
Mary, sing and we'll get drunk
So that everything
Flies to hell

We're tired like devils
We're from the lower reaches of Colorado
We've been without without
Women
This night is our reward
Our souls are yellow
The devil
Will call with the rising
Sun
To your sweet
Songs of Mary
Someone will no longer
Will not return

Well, turn it up, turn it up
The heat
Mary, where are your friends
We would play with them
On empty bottles
Fugues
Beat the drums harder
The sky will burst from the strain
And the floor will go under your feet
From such a boogie-woogie
Tired people

Kiss Mary on
Goodbye
Maybe happiness
Will smile
We owe so much
The bottom of the river is not the bottom
Of the well
Our souls are yellow
The devil
Will call with the rising
Sun
To your sweet
Songs of Mary
Someone will no longer
Will not
Return

Don't shoot
At the pianist
He plays as best he can
Let tries
Scoundrel
With a pretty black
Face
Life on the line
Spin the roulette
May God help us all
God
Pour quickly to the full
We are here until the end
Looks like
God
Under the boogie
Tired people