The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Not in Paris." (Ne v Parije) the performer of the song "Mikhail Krug"

I'm glad I don't live in Paris, Broadway is completely unknown to me.

The former 'Novaya' is much closer to me than walking barefoot in Monte Carlo.

It's closer to Rotmistrov, much closer, to 'Pravda' it's just a stone's throw away.

And every local will say: 'Thank God, the police are right under our noses - what a blessing'.

But we didn't go there often - we don't know the regulars or the crooks.

We preferred to sit in 'Yuzhny', and German Ivanovich knew us like family.

Why go abroad, we have a hundred times more fun.

The kind that Hollywood never dreamed of, cleaner than the blockbuster 'Ghost'.

Routine and life, customs and order, business, debts and boredom with the hustle...

As children we played hide and seek, and everyone ran sober and barefoot.

And in 'Yuzhny' the stench and smoke - just a tavern, I covered my ears for a moment.

And I saw how they were shaking by the counter, how Kalinych, his mouth open, was drinking something.

Я рад, что проживаю не в Париже, с Бродвеем я нисколько не знаком.

До бывшей "Новой" мне гораздо ближе, чем в Монте-Карло шлёпать босиком.

До Ротмистрова ближе и намного, до "Правды" там совсем рукой подать.

И каждый местный скажет: "Слава богу, милиция под носом — благодать".

Но мы туда не часто заходили — не знаем завсегдатых и блатных.

Мы больше в "Южном" посидеть любили, и Герман Иванович знал нас как родных.

Зачем куда-то ехать за границу, у нас приколов больше в сотни раз.

Таких, что в Голливуде и не снится, почище суперфильма "Фантомас".

Расклад и жизнь, устои и порядки, дела, долги и скука с суетой...

Когда-то в детстве мы играли в прятки, и каждый бегал трезвый и босой.

А в "Южном" смрад и дым — кабак и только, я уши на мгновение закрыл.

И видел, как трясутся возле стойки, как, рот открыв, Калиныч что-то пил.

In his song "Not in Paris", Mikhail Krug praises the simplicity and clarity of his native life, contrasting it with a glamorous but alien world. The lyrical hero feels no awe before Paris, Broadway, or Monte Carlo. He is much closer and more understandable to the realities of the Russian provinces: the "Novaya" cafe, Rotmistrov and Pravda streets, the proximity of the police station, which is perceived as a guarantor of security.

Krug paints a picture of a simple life, where there are joys and sorrows: gatherings in his beloved "Yuzhnoye" cafe, where everyone knows each other, where "German Ivanovich knew us like family". The entertainment here is unpretentious, but sincere, "there are a hundred times more fun" than in Hollywood movies.

In the last stanzas, light sadness for a bygone youth is seen through nostalgia, when "in childhood we played hide-and-seek, and everyone ran sober and barefoot." The reality is more severe: "layout and life, foundations and order, business, debts and boredom with vanity." The picture of the withering of bygone times is complemented by the image of the degraded Kalinych, who is "shaking near the counter" in a smoky tavern.