Текст песни Скворец - машина вре
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Никто не шутит с природой
И дело - дрянь, и лету конец.
И только, споря с погодой,
Поет какой-то глупый скворец.
Друзья давно отсвистели
И, улетая, звали с собой:
"А завтра грянут метели,
Кому ты будешь нужен зимой?"
А он, чудак, не мог понять никак:
Куда улетать,
Зачем его куда-то зовут,
Если здесь его дом, его песни,
Его родина тут,
И кому весной его трель нужна,
Ежели весна и без того весна,
И кто сказал, что песням зимой конец? -
Совсем не конец!
Что за глупый скворец!
Что за глупый скворец!
Что за глупый скворец!
А люди прятались в шубы
И поднимали воротники.
Какой он все-таки глупый -
С природой воевать не с руки.
Укрыты снегом аллеи,
И он не изменил ничего,
Быть может, стало лишь чуть-чуть теплее
От одинокой песни его.
А он, чудак, не мог понять никак:
Куда улетать,
Зачем его куда-то зовут,
Если здесь его дом, его песни,
Его родина тут,
И кому весной его трель нужна,
Ежели весна и без того весна,
И кто сказал, что песням зимой конец? -
Совсем не конец!
Что за глупый скворец!
Что за глупый скворец!
Что за глупый скворец!
No one is joking with nature.
And the thing - rubbish, and the end of the summer.
And just arguing with the weather,
Sings some stupid starling.
Friends whistle for a long time
And, flying away, they called with them:
"And tomorrow there will be blizzards
Who will you need in winter? "
And he, eccentric, could not understand:
Where to fly
Why is he called somewhere,
If his house is here, his songs,
His homeland is here,
And who needs his trill in the spring,
If spring is already spring,
And who said that the end of winter songs? -
Not the end at all!
What a stupid starling!
What a stupid starling!
What a stupid starling!
And people were hiding in fur coats
And raised the collars.
How stupid he is -
With nature do not fight with your hands.
Snow-covered alleys,
And he changed nothing,
Perhaps it has only become a little warmer.
From the lonely song of his.
And he, eccentric, could not understand:
Where to fly
Why is he called somewhere,
If his house is here, his songs,
His homeland is here,
And who needs his trill in the spring,
If spring is already spring,
And who said that the end of winter songs? -
Not the end at all!
What a stupid starling!
What a stupid starling!
What a stupid starling!
And the thing - rubbish, and the end of the summer.
And just arguing with the weather,
Sings some stupid starling.
Friends whistle for a long time
And, flying away, they called with them:
"And tomorrow there will be blizzards
Who will you need in winter? "
And he, eccentric, could not understand:
Where to fly
Why is he called somewhere,
If his house is here, his songs,
His homeland is here,
And who needs his trill in the spring,
If spring is already spring,
And who said that the end of winter songs? -
Not the end at all!
What a stupid starling!
What a stupid starling!
What a stupid starling!
And people were hiding in fur coats
And raised the collars.
How stupid he is -
With nature do not fight with your hands.
Snow-covered alleys,
And he changed nothing,
Perhaps it has only become a little warmer.
From the lonely song of his.
And he, eccentric, could not understand:
Where to fly
Why is he called somewhere,
If his house is here, his songs,
His homeland is here,
And who needs his trill in the spring,
If spring is already spring,
And who said that the end of winter songs? -
Not the end at all!
What a stupid starling!
What a stupid starling!
What a stupid starling!