Эй, гражданина! Ты туда не ходи, ты сюда ходи. А то снег в башка попадёт. Совсем мёртвый будешь!

Если я скажу — «нет», разве я остановлю тебя?

И в мире нет истории страшней, Безумней, чем история России.

I knew you'd haunt over my war days, The smell of smoke would hang around this long, 'Cause I knew everything when I was young. I knew I cursed you for the longest time, Chasing shadows in the grocery line, I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, And you'd be standing in my front porch lock, And you'd come back to me, And you'd come back to me, And you'd come back to me, And you'd come back.