I had over forty last names,
I had seven passports, too,
I was loved by seventy women,
I had nearly two hundred foes.
But I do not pity.

No matter how I strived,
No matter how I tried,
I thanked many people,
With them I drank vodka.

I always believe in justice,
For example in our Soviet people,
But no one will build me a monument
Somewhere near Petrovsky Gates.
But I do not pity.

No matter how I strived,
No matter how I tried,
I always wanted to fight,
But found no one.

And I sing songs about dramas,
About the lives of inmates and thieves,
You won’t find my name on billboards,
Advertising the popular singers.
But I do not pity.

No matter how I strived,
No matter how I tried,
I would always get caught
And be sent to jail.

And though my task was long and of value,
And though I really earned some acclaim,
No one will write an obituary on my death
In the newspaper s last page.
But I do not pity.

No matter how I strived,
No matter how I tried,
I would always get caught
And be sent to jail.

And I get wounded so much in my life -
Well, it must be the bitter fate.
But still, my profile will never be on coins,
Instead of the Soviet flag.
But I do not pity.

Then why should I strive?
Then why should I try?
To tell what is what,
I must first have a drink.