Guy from our factory


In the streets of their native Zamoskvorechye
Talking with friends, a young guy.
The colored lights floats autumn evening,
Noisy boulevards yellow foliage.

Chorus:
Bayan sings Storm and campaigns
And the song rushes with a fair breeze
Funny guy from our factory
Comes to serve sailors.

No wonder, forgetting the fatigue,
I went to the beach every weekend.
Knowingly wanted the sea began
For noisy factory gates.

Chorus.

And now the road at dawn
There, where the blue expanse spreads.
Fly Moscow, circling merry wind
Leads his accordion voiced conversation.

Chorus. 1950