Taka solona nich ocya,
Lybon, shcho pyvom lysh zapyty.
U takt sloti sloza z ochei –
Meni vze nikoho ljubyty.
Pryspiv:
Staryi mii druze, lvivskyi bar,
Barmen veselyi, nevhamovnyi,
I pyvo svitle, mov yantar, –
Mii zadushevnyi spivrozmovnyk.
Hei, pyva i muzyku, barmen,
Slota-bida taky mynetsya.
Zyva lehenda – ain moment! –
I dolya nam uze smiyetsya!
V rozshyvku mury kam’yani –
U nyh bere pochatok Leta,
I v plyni piznoyi pory
Vpade tyahar z dushi poeta.
Pryspiv