Текст песни А. Розенбаум - На перевале дождь
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At the pass the rain, Behind him can not be heard howling mullahs. The thin sky and thin sheep are front. At the pass the rain, And the mortar trunks cool down, And there is time, and time is, and time is there to scribble you a couple of lines, relatives. He will pour all night - We have here, Mom, the rainy season has begun, And there is no connection, and the radioman comes from the heart. On the pass the rain, And we would have to drop the weight of the "two hundredth" sooner. And quickly, and quickly, and quickly sew up the torn turtles. The tobacco will end soon - We would dry the leaves, A nice pipe would come out. From a newspaper article. But a downpour, a never-ending rainstorm ... And soon the morning, and we must go. On the pass the rain, And he is for snipers in the rescue and on the side. Relaxed fighters - not all for the benefit that is flooded for warming. There is a rain on the pass. And he sees the suit of our cards in the sight, And who walked, and who walked, and who went forward, will simply go left. The tobacco will end soon - We would dry the leaves, A nice pipe would come out. From a newspaper article. But a downpour, a never-ending rainstorm ... And soon the morning, and we must go. On the pass, rain, Mushroom places here, with a basket to resemble. Here copses, as we have in the Old Dacha. I'm on the armor for seven years, And I always really want to ask: Why are we here? Why are we here? Why are we here? Let someone clearly explain my task. Why are we here, why are we here? Why are we here? The country with Afghanistan is crying for the twentieth year.
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