And this was a clear Sunday afternoon, and I didnít mug people.
Sunday is my day off-thatís my slogan all the time.
All of a sudden I hear a whistle, I am being grabbed by police,
And one recognizes me and yells: "Recidivist!"
"Give it up, comrade. Donít bother.
My last name is Sergeyev.
And I have no idea
who the recidivist might be".
It was a Sunday afternoon, but the cops never have a day off.
They also have a plan. Believe it or not.
And if theyíll overdo the plan, theyíll be rewarded
With a ton of gold - for busting the thief-recidivist.
Showing the respect to me:
"Sit down. Have a cigarette, comrade.
So, you are that recidivist...
Sign under the protocol".
It was a Sunday afternoon, the sun was shining.
And the people - some with family, some with friends.
But I sat here like in the most disgusting Monday -
The major seemed to be a hard working man.
"How many times were you tried?"
"Sorry, I donít know how to count."
"So you are that recidivist?"
"No, comrade, Iím Sergeyev".
It was a Sunday afternoon, and I was sweating like crazy,
But the major seemed to excel in math.
First he added, then subtracted, then divided something,
And then said that I was tried ten times.
And the chief handed me a list,
told me to sign it,
So I wrote: "The recidivist
by the name of Sergeyev".
It was a Sunday afternoon, I was tired and beaten,
But I know one thing, for which I am happy and glad:
I have contributed my very modest contribution
Into the seven-year plan for catching all the thieves.