To tell the truth, last night we didn’t drink that many,
And I’m not lying, Sergéi can tell you.
If vodka wasn’t made from wooden fibers,
What could three, four, five bottles do to us, old-timers?

We drank the second one right after we departed,
But that was nothing - we barely started.
Then in the park, where children’s mushrooms clustered,
And then a blackout, I got too plastered.

I drank a bottle, feeling hungry and unhappy,
But I was classy - I mean, quite glassy.
And when the van rolled up to pick us, guzzlers,
We had five quarters to every muzzle!

We forced the third guy in, but hey, hold on a minute -
Mistakes can happen, we overdid it.
The fact we broke our comrade’s reading glasses -
Was caused by sherry consumed en masse.

"Calm down," our comrade mumbled, looking sad and skittish,
"Don’t get too rowdy, it’s time to finish."
His "finish" call I did support with swiftness,
All booze was finished, he is our witness.

But if I’ve scolded anyone, please punish sternly!
But that’s unlikely, - Sergei can tell you!
I yelled not out of grief, but out of dumbness.
Yes, I fell over, but that was numbness.

Now, let me ask you off the record, for my knowledge.
What do they teach us in school and college?
That life itself will punish us severely.
We have agreement, Sergei nods firmly!

He’ll wake up in the morning, and, of course, he’ll ask us:
Let life do teaching, let life bring justice!
So let us go - do not fill out this rubbish:
Why even bother, when life will punish?

Don’t pay attention to Seryózha, who keeps nodding.
He understands us, that’s him responding!
He doesn’t speak because of his excitement,
His self-awareness, and his enlightenment.

Don’t lock us up tonight, our kids will miss their daddies - 
He lives in Khímki, I’m in Medvédki.
It matters not: the subway’s closed till morning.
There are no buses, the cabs aren’t stopping.

Regardless, it is always nice to be respected:
You’re locked in promptly, you feel protected.
It’s not the rooster’s call that wakes you in the morning,
But it’s your sergeant with his first warning!

When we wake up tomorrow, we will be in clover:
I hid a ruble, we’ll heal hangover.
And yet, my brother, it’s a bumpy journey!
Sleep well, Seryozha, and don’t you worry!