( - Hey, boy! Are you ready?
- Yeah, we wanna know our past!
- I'll tell you, I guess.
- We'll sit quiet.
- And close your eyes, imagine:
Sun...
- Goes down!
- Over the step of great size.
Red Army troops are longing for fight.
- But!
- Now they are having their rest playing hot jazz!)
В джаз-клубе РККА сегодня играют би-боп.
Уставшие эа день бойцы разбирают Колтрейна.
В напоенных смертью руках трепещет звучащая плоть.
Знамена и седла побросаны прямо на сцене.
Товарищ военный, зачем эта грусть?
Быть может, назавтра разрушится мир...
Товарищ военный, сыграй новый блюз,
Который для нас написал командир!
(You know, honey, it's really hot jazz! )
Враги отступили к реке, и можно спокойно курить,
Забыть про дурацкие мерши и польки Паркасса.
А завтра опять на войну, а завтра придется залить
Холодную землю волнами горячего джаза.
Товарищ военный, зачем эта грусть?
Быть может, назавтра разрушится мир...
Товарищ военный, сыграй новый блюз,
Который для нас написал командир!
Товарищ военный, зачем эта грусть?
Быть может, назавтра разрушится мир...
Товарищ военный, ну, сыграй новый блюз,
Который для нас написал командир!
(- Hey, boy! Are you ready?
- Yeah, we wanna know our past!
- I'll tell you, I guess.
- We'll sit quiet.
- And close your eyes, imagine:
Sun ...
- Goes down!
- Over the step of great size.
Red Army troops are longing for fight.
- But!
- Now they are having their rest playing hot jazz!)
In the red club jazz club today they play b-bop.
Tired ea day, the soldiers dismantle Coltrane.
Sounding flesh trembles in death-drunk hands.
Banners and saddles are thrown right on the stage.
Comrade military, why is this sadness?
Perhaps tomorrow the world will collapse ...
Comrade military, play the new blues,
Which the commander wrote for us!
(You know, honey, it's really hot jazz!)
Enemies retreated to the river, and you can calmly smoke,
Forget about the stupid Mershs and Polkas of Parkass.
And tomorrow again to the war, and tomorrow will have to pour
Cold earth in waves of hot jazz.
Comrade military, why is this sadness?
Perhaps tomorrow the world will collapse ...
Comrade military, play the new blues,
Which the commander wrote for us!
Comrade military, why is this sadness?
Perhaps tomorrow the world will collapse ...
Comrade military, well, play the new blues,
Which the commander wrote for us!
