Игорь Брыков - Путейцы
текст песни

In the shimmering haze, I see in the distance
An orange vest on dark skin
I deeply inhale the smell of tarred sleepers
I work in sweat and grime - so what?

It's a job for strong men
Lifting things that are too heavy to lift
More and more strain on my creaking vertebrae
Less and less money in my pocket

The world's bigwigs spin the globe on their fingers
Offering everyone air at interest
But the main thing for us is that the trains keep running
Without derailments, delays, or incidents

The sandpaper of my calloused hand polishes the handle
Replacing the track in one, two, three
So that passengers can travel safely
Where the green lights are shining

The earth is girdled by a steel, resilient ribbon
And that's why we always have enough work
It means the path will lie in a smooth track
The rails converging on the horizon

There's a remedy for depression and bad days
It'll solve everything - just take a heavier hammer
And hammer away at your melancholy and sadness
Drive that stubborn spike in right up to the head!