
Ryzhaya
He’s up before the kettle, keys already in his hand, Straight-line kind of worker, got a checklist and a plan. Comes home talking deadlines, sleeves rolled to the elbow, Then cracks a little lager like the day can take it slow. He’ll count every hour, every bolt, every mile, But ask him how old he is—he just gives that crooked smile. He works all day, then he’s taking it easy, One cold beer and a plate piled high. Loves his meat, loves his red-haired lady, Calls her “Ryzhaya” with a twinkle in his eye. He forgets the number, but he knows what matters: Her laugh, his supper, and a little more time. Straight-line heart with a soft side showing, That red-haired love is his favorite line. He’ll order up the steak like it’s written in the stars, Tell the same good story, then forget how old we are. She rolls her eyes, but she saves him the best bite, He calls her “Ryzhaya,” and she lets him off tonight. The weeks go running by, but one thing stays true: He may lose track of birthdays—he comes running home to you. He works all day, then he’s taking it easy, One cold beer and a plate piled high. Loves his meat, loves his red-haired lady, Calls her “Ryzhaya” with a twinkle in his eye. He forgets the number, but he knows what matters: Her laugh, his supper, and a little more time. Straight-line heart with a soft side showing, That red-haired love is his favorite line. When the work boots rest by the door, And the long day slips away, He remembers what he came back for— Her hand in his, and a place to stay. He works all day, then he’s taking it easy, One cold beer and a plate piled high. Loves his meat, loves his red-haired lady, Calls her “Ryzhaya” with a twinkle in his eye. He forgets the number, but he knows what matters: Her laugh, his supper, and a little more time. Straight-line heart with a soft side showing, That red-haired love is his favorite line. “Ryzhaya,” he says, and she shakes her head, He’s still not sure how old he is—but he knows who’s there.
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Текст песни
[Куплет 1] He’s up before the kettle, keys already in his hand, Straight-line kind of worker, got a checklist and a plan. Comes home talking deadlines, sleeves rolled to the elbow, Then cracks a little lager like the day can take it slow. [Предприпев] He’ll count every hour, every bolt, every mile, But ask him how old he is—he just gives that crooked smile. [Припев] He works all day, then he’s taking it easy, One cold beer and a plate piled high. Loves his meat, loves his red-haired lady, Calls her “Ryzhaya” with a twinkle in his eye. He forgets the number, but he knows what matters: Her laugh, his supper, and a little more time. Straight-line heart with a soft side showing, That red-haired love is his favorite line. [Куплет 2] He’ll order up the steak like it’s written in the stars, Tell the same good story, then forget how old we are. She rolls her eyes, but she saves him the best bite, He calls her “Ryzhaya,” and she lets him off tonight. [Предприпев] The weeks go running by, but one thing stays true: He may lose track of birthdays—he comes running home to you. [Припев] He works all day, then he’s taking it easy, One cold beer and a plate piled high. Loves his meat, loves his red-haired lady, Calls her “Ryzhaya” with a twinkle in his eye. He forgets the number, but he knows what matters: Her laugh, his supper, and a little more time. Straight-line heart with a soft side showing, That red-haired love is his favorite line. [Бридж] When the work boots rest by the door, And the long day slips away, He remembers what he came back for— Her hand in his, and a place to stay. [Финальный припев] He works all day, then he’s taking it easy, One cold beer and a plate piled high. Loves his meat, loves his red-haired lady, Calls her “Ryzhaya” with a twinkle in his eye. He forgets the number, but he knows what matters: Her laugh, his supper, and a little more time. Straight-line heart with a soft side showing, That red-haired love is his favorite line. [Аутро] “Ryzhaya,” he says, and she shakes her head, He’s still not sure how old he is—but he knows who’s there.
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