Just before the revolution, in my great grandfather time,
A distant uncle died, and left a factory supplied
Our family was in it’s prime.
Proud and always boasting the position he was in,
Great grandfather started drinking, the business started sinking,
Bankers came he let them in
A ruble’s nothing, piece of paper saving is a grievous sin,
There’s riches in the bottle, drink it all down with a grin
He sold away the business, once again he had some cash,
Spent his days in the city, paid the price for feeling witty,
We were penniless in a flash.
His sisters cursed his name, they chased him from the family flat,
The October winds were blowing, people’s desperation growing
While the rich were getting fat.
A ruble’s nothing, piece of paper saving is a grievous sin,
There’s riches in the bottle, drink it all down with a grin
Now the bankers were in trouble, they went running for the hill,
That same factory was taken, by the state now in the making
The owner’s family was killed.
Proud and always boasting the position he was in,
Great grandfather knew his drinking, kept our family from sinking,
And so his legend did begin.
A ruble’s nothing, piece of paper saving is a grievous sin,
There’s riches in the bottle, drink it all down with a grin