Странный вопрос [Strannyj vopros] [English translation]

This place is too windy,

Yet the spirit here is too strong;

There's a lot of old women here,

They're all reading aloud;

People come to me

To punch me in the face;

And then you wonder why don't I live here.

You know, my dear,

I think it's a strange question.

In the tobacco industry,

Everyone's fighting for the cake,

Or brewing moonshine from anything

That's not even meant to be stolen;

And no one've seen the foreman here for a year,

He doesn't even care;

And then you wonder why I don't smoke.

You know, my dear,

I may be an idiot, but still I'm not a moron.

One of your friends

Eats tar with a spoon,

And the other shoots everyone

Who knows more than him.

A person with a machinegun comes to me

And asks if I'm running the cross;

And then you wonder why I'm just passing by.

You know, my dear,

I only hope you're not serious.

You came to me this morning,

You sat on my bed,

You asked if I have a permission

On breathing,

And if my pass is valid

To go out to the cinema.

And now you say: "Where are you going from here?"

You know, just away, and the rest be history.