, we are companions, friends, in a bag, a mug-spoon, my piano accordion is always with me, oh the kielceonze slats , and the fire burns in the soul from the bottled gelchanka, let’s remember about our fathers and grandfathers in the villages, they walked like this, with the gentlemen, with the girl and at the table they suffered, and now there is only a disco, a little joy, the lady cannot replace the russian accordion for me, oh elekskaya harmony, piano tuning, dear my heart. lace picker, i am a kiletsk accordion , bronze slats and the fire burns in my soul from the draft elchanyka, oh yeletskaya harmony, and the piano tuning, dear to my heart, lace picker, kiletsk accordion. bronze slats and a fire burns in the soul from the fir tree on tap and a fire burns in the soul from this monkey.