Нас было шестеро - Филипп Киркоров

Нас было шестеро.

Один упал.

Упал в глазах друзей под грохот канонады.

Он душу дьяволу за нашу честь продал и новый дом себе купил в предместьях ада.

Нас было шестеро.

Нас стало пятеро.

Один устал.

Устал от гонки за успехом окаянным.

Он в час отчаянный тугой курок нажал и пал на праведную землю бездыханно.

Нас было пятеро.

Нас стало четверо.

Один исчез.

Нежданно канул в бездну, путь свершив короткий.

Быть может, был сражен он молнией с небес, а может быть, он выпил слишком много

водки.

Нас было четверо.

Осталось трое нас.

Один погас.

Хотя горел, казалось, как костер цыганский.

От водопада слез он свой огонь не спас и стал золою на земле американской.

Нас было трое.

Осталось двое нас.

Один ушел.

Ушел с женой моею весело и просто.

Он знал тогда, что я почти с ума сошел и был всего в одном мгновеньи от погоста.

Нас было двое.

Нас было шестеро.

Нас было шестеро.

Нас было шестеро.

Нас было шестеро.

Нас было шестеро.

И вот один я на краю стою и вспоминаю тех, кто больше не воскреснет,

И вам, друзья мои, «прощайте» говорю последней строчкою моей последней песни…

There were six of us.

One fell.

Fell in the eyes of friends under the roar of cannonade.

He sold his soul to the devil for our honor and bought himself a new house on the outskirts of hell.

There were six of us.

There were five of us.

One is tired.

Tired of the race for success accursed.

In an hour, he pulled a desperate tight trigger and fell on the righteous earth lifelessly.

There were five of us.

There were four of us.

One has disappeared.

He suddenly sank into the abyss, having made a short path.

Perhaps he was struck by lightning from heaven, or perhaps he drank too much

vodka.

There were four of us.

There are three of us left.

One went out.

Although it burned, it seemed like a gypsy fire.

He did not save his fire from the waterfall of tears and became ashes on American soil.

There were three of us.

There are two of us left.

One left.

I left with my wife cheerfully and simply.

He knew then that I had almost lost my mind and was only an instant away from the churchyard.

There were two of us.

There were six of us.

There were six of us.

There were six of us.

There were six of us.

There were six of us.

And here I stand alone on the edge and remember those who will no longer be resurrected,

And to you, my friends, "farewell" I say with the last line of my last song ...