LYRICS

Many times I wait,
to return my son.
evening go to bed, get up in the morning,
still with your name.
often quietly cried,
With your photos son.
whole life I give,
please save me!

firstborn child, son,
difficult to prezhalva.
And even hundred to I,
again will my pitiful! (X2)

Many nights I fell asleep,
still in front of me his son.
glass of wine you pour,
and dark drink.
often secretly I cried, tears send
son.
my sins I paid,
or … ah, burn me!

firstborn child, son,
difficult to prezhalva.
He even got to a hundred,
again will my pitiful! (X2)