Текст песни Братья Гримм - Барабан

Miss young guys
And fledge after sunset
And again, tables, tac-toe, sponge-knives
They don't care about black holes.
They will lock their empty apartments.
And again the night cared, the blizzard marked

And I rotate the drum, the drum
And I will convey greetings, convey
And I rotate the drum, the drum
Let's talk frankly

Drum drum
And I'll give you some odds
And I rotate the drum, the drum
A-ha.

Boils blood, squeezing palms
And in transitions and in the stadium
Crumpling the walls and "geldings"
Nemer forces
The night passes and the young guys
Go to the shade, but after sunset ...
And again, tables, tac-toe, sponge-knives.

And I rotate the drum, the drum
And I will convey greetings, convey
And I rotate the drum, the drum
Let's talk frankly

Drum drum
And I'll give you some odds
And I rotate the drum, the drum
A-ha.

And I rotate the drum, the drum
And I will convey greetings, convey
And I rotate the drum, the drum
Let's talk frankly

Drum drum
And I'll give you some odds
And I rotate the drum, the drum
A-ha.