Ya dovho dumav, shcho ya chotiv by shche maty,
Choho i skilky po mishkach naskladaty,
Chto maye hroshi, toy choche maty yich bilshe,
Chto maye vladu, toy vze na zemlyu ne ziyde.

Pryspiv:
Lyi! Na nas vodu lyi, zamalo ne bude.
Lyi! Nam ochi promyi, shchob bachyly lyudy
Kudy vony yshly dvi tysyachi rokiv
I niby razom, a taki odynoki,
Shchob bachyly vsi, shcho my zalyshayem
Dlya novych lyudey, yakych shche ne maye.
Lyi! Na nas vodu lyi...
Lyi! Nam ochi promyi...

Ya dovho dumav, shcho bude z namy za roky,
Chy, moze, raptom, shchos' pominyayet'sya trochy?
Chy, moze, znovu nam treba mavpamy staty,
Shchoby normalno spochatku zyty pochaty.

Pryspiv