Artist: Tryzubyi Stas
Lyrics author: Тризубий Стас | Music author: Paul McCartney |
V tebe na horodi, shcho ne choch cvite,
Navit' vze ye bulba moloda,
A u mene shchos' nichoho ne roste,
De ne hlyan, lysh sama loboda.
V lobodi loboda z lobodoyu,
Dobri lyudy, to bida.
Shcho robyty iz toyu travoyu?
Zhubyt' mene loboda.
Duze lyutyi v nashomu kolhospi byk,
Vin koho zavhodno zaboda,
Bo do buryakiv ta konyushyny zvyk,
A v racioni – sama loboda.
Na obid loboda z lobodoyu,
Oy, vin mene zaboda,
Vze y korovy ne daly nadoyu,
Zhubyt' mene loboda.
Ya chuyu v stayni lysh "mu" ta "mu",
Ta, yak meni poyasnyty yomu,
Shcho to ye duze fayno?
Zaraz u Hameryci ta v Kanadi
Kozen mriye, shcho vin pochuda,
Treba lysh varyty zupu na vodi
Ta v vodi shchob bula loboda.
U vodi loboda z lobodoyu,
Harna shtuka – loboda.
Yak ze pyty z takoyu yidoyu? –
Chto zavhodno pochuda.
Ya duze radyi i ne darma –
Cholesterynu u niy nema
I to ye duze fayno.
Sovayus' po poli ya tudy-syudy,
Chuyu sercem stanet'sya bida.
Oy, zalyshus', lyudonky, bez lobody,
V mene zuk lobodu vyyida.
Vyyida loboda z lobodoyu,
A chto za to vidpovida:
Shcho budemo my yisty z toboyu,
Yak propade loboda?