Раньше в твоих глазах... (ran'she v tvoikh glazakh...)

Good morning, boys
Good morning, girls
Look at me from the window
And laugh about me, yeah
Cause I'm planting aluminium cucumbers
On a field of canvas

Three clever men from Chucotka
Prove to me again and again
That a metal can not bring me fruit
It's not worth the trouble
And the result's more work
But I'm planting aluminium cucumbers
On a field of canvas

There's the greatest evil fatigue,
It tries to catch me everywhere
Its stake stabs me in my veins
In trying to discover the secret of
Why I'm planting aluminium cucumbers
On a field of canvas

Knobs, clips, and rivets,
Holes, buns, and forks.
As my tractors pass right by
They'll fall into the money-box
They'll fall into the place
Where I'm planting aluminium cucumbers
On a field of canvas