Down by the Volga walks the lonely Boatsman

Towing on his back that celestial plain

From the heavens above, the Lord shows his hand

But the Boatsman simply laughs - the hand contains cocaine.



And down the Volga - memories of the Golden Horde

And up the Volga - damsels transfixed on the shore

Such Kozelsky brew, such a waterly flood

Oh pale blue snow, freeze my blood to the core.



How the winter simply calmed us with its iron and ice

Pacified us, the quietly turned into spring

When the snow starts to melt - oh what that shall entice

When the ice starts to brea - oh how I shall sing.



Is this just Volga or BibLical Flood?

Or simply a lord and the traces he sweeps?

But I couldn't care less, I'm lamost ready, my love

I am ready to sing to you out from the deep

And from the dark of the deep, oh how the bells sing

>From behind the old wall comes Chizh to be believed

Oh forgive me my sins with thw wave of you wing

Oh forgive me my sins - say something, please!



So burn Seraphim golden winged-pomp

Burn and fear nor your own guiding star

I couldn't care less, I've misplaced the bit to chomp

I have no other part - just whenever you are.



So, here's our whole life: either SECAM or PAL

Either full collapse or the Savior will dote

Going outside to find the start of it all

Got drunk and fell down - and that's all she wrote

The ravens are silent, it's the women who scream

With a howl from the boondocks or some sisterly love

Either the Saving Fast or some saving poison

Don't you hear my knock - please, open the door !



So, count us with the angels or among the boar

But please don't mute, I can't make it without fire

Whenever I may roam I keep knocking at the door

But oh my Lord above, have mercy on me, Sire