"September, 3rd.
All is gone, all is wrong
You're my friend, I'm your foe
It's too bad to it end it up forever
It was April and we
Swore to love, swore to be
Yellow leaves like the shards
Fell in Moscow's backyards
It's September, 3rd, the day of farewell
When bright fires burn on rowan-trees
Our vows are burned, there's no wonder
On the day when I'm lonely here
I'll turn the page, to start anew
And it's again September, 3rd
I take a look... that pic of you
And it's again September, 3rd
But really why, but really why
We had to split up on that day
While we were perfectly okay
Only a day before
Wedge of cranes flying South
There's your girl, there's my son
Everyone wants some love and cuddle
We played love like a game
On thin ice, what a shame
Now it's over, that day
On its own comes again
It's September, 3rd, the day of farewell
When bright fires burn on rowan-trees
Our vows are burned, there's no wonder
On the day when I'm lonely here
I'll turn the page, to start anew
And it's again September, 3rd
I take a look... that pic of you
And it's again September, 3rd
But really why, but really why
We had to split up on that day
While we were perfectly okay
Only a day before."
Mikhail Shufutinsky, album "Gulyai, dusha", 1994 year.