Текст песни
With golden whiskers, he sits so fine,
Not mischievous, but well-behaved in his prime
He knows the wicked nature of those around
And teaches them, if his master's will is found.
Cat-Кот
Бегемот
Cat-Кот
Бегемот
He adores banquets and feasts so fine,
Where the wicked and the proud do entwine.
On astonished eyes, he pours his delight,
With caviar and sturgeon, a sumptuous wine.
Cat-Кот
Бегемот
Cat-Кот
Бегемот
He prefers public transport, a crowd to adore,
Where people gather, and rules are in store.
He behaves with decorum, and pays his fare,
But shocks the passengers, with his massive air.
Cat-Кот
Бегемот
Cat-Кот
Бегемот
A demon of darkness, with wicked delight,
He revels in fear, and the wicked's plight.
His power is great, over those who are bold,
But to the good, he's a gentle guide to hold.
Cat-Кот
Бегемот
Cat-Кот
Бегемот
From Bulgakov's pages, he slipped away,
Now living with us, as Cat-BegemOt, he'll stay.
