The Touring Music Man, Англ пер. стиха Б. Окуджавы

The touring music man is kissing with his trumpet.
Plays passages by dawn, not much is on his mind.
His love is not for you, wake up, don’t be his puppet.
Just snuggle by my side. Just snuggle by my side.

The last three days he rents a place where no one settles,
Their price of bed by bay – is just a buck or two.
He’s blowing in his horn, like boiling hot teakettle
He’s sighing heavily...  But I’m in love with you.

The bandsman plays a song, his tongue and lips in tangle.
The bandsman blasts and blows, he’s grunting of his own.
But like the face of fate, he looks through window panel,
His love is not for you... My love’s to you alone.

I'll wait for better days, I’ll put a new attire
To float in front of you, just like a falling leaf.
Do I want a bit too much, too many things require?
Do I lead too sweet a life, in you alone believe?

You will not be seduced by food or fancy topper.
The touring music man is playing all day straight!
Whole world’s not match for him, with his hot shiny copper.
The fate, of fate, by fate, with fate, about fate
The fate, of fate, by fate, with fate, about fate