Kozen ranok pochynayu bilya vikon tvoyich,
Yak shalenyi mahnit ty prytyahuyesh vsich.
Vytrachayut' na tebe n-nu kilkist' hroshey,
Usi vvazayut', shcho ce u poryadku rechey.
U kavalery do tebe ya sebe zapysav,
Pracyuvav hodynamy, nochamy ne spav,
Shchob tobi daruvaty VIP-podarunky,
V restoranach platyty cheky-rachunky.

Pryspiv:
Ale na inshych vyprobovuyesh ty svoyi chary,
Ne pytayuchys' dozvolu na ce,
Ya, vreshti-resht, podaruyu tobi okulyary,
Shchob ty zmohla pomityty mene!

Kozen vechir z toboyu tryvaye do ranku,
Kozen vedet'sya na tvoyu prymanku.
Nizno beresh ty usich do polonu,
A vzamin ne dayesh navit' nomer telefonu
Tvoyu taktyku shvydko ya rozhadav,
I pro ce tobi vidkryto i chesno skazav,
Ale ty uvahy ne zvertayesh na ce,
Rozevi okulyary zakryvayut' lyce!

Pryspiv

Ty ne cinuyesh lyudey, a cinuyesh yich rechi,
Sila na holovu, obperlas' na plechi!
Ne potribni tobi pochuttya i stosunky,
Tvoya mira odna – tvoyi podarunky.

Pryspiv