The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Police report" (Miliceyskiy protokol) the performer of the song "Vladimir Vysotsky"

Count it our way, we didn't drink much at all -

I swear to God - tell them, Seryoga!

And if vodka wasn't made from sawdust,

Then what would five bottles do to us!

… We drank the second one near the counter in a corner -

But those were just the first signs -

Then - to the park, where the children's mushrooms are,

Then - I don't remember - I reached the point.

I drank from the bottle, tired and hungry,

But - like glass I was - glassy-eyed.

And when the carriage pulled up,

That's when we had - seven hundred per snout!

We did, however, drag the third one along by force -

Well, a slight mistake - we overdid it.

And as for the glasses we broke on our comrade -

That was the port wine exacerbating things.

The first comrade told us, like, listen up,

Don't make a fuss, just disperse.

I agreed to "disperse" right away -

And I dispersed - and dispersed!

But if I swore at anyone - punish me severely!

But that's unlikely - tell them, Seryoga!

And as for falling - that's from the dizziness,

I wasn't yelling out of anger - but from stupidity.

… Now allow me a few words off the record.

What do family and school teach us?

That life itself will punish such people severely.

We agree with that - tell them, Seryoga!

He'll wake up in the morning - sober up - and say:

Let life judge, let life punish!

So let us go - it'll be easier for you:

Why bother, life will judge anyway!

Can't you see Seryozha is nodding along -

He gets it, he understands everything!

And the reason he's silent is because he's overwhelmed,

With realization and enlightenment.

Don't lock us up, good people - our children are crying at home -

He has to go to Khimki, and I to Medvedkovo!..

It doesn't matter anyway: the buses aren't running,

The metro is closed, they won't take us in a taxi.

It's nice, though, that they respect us here:

Look - they give us a ride, look - they let us in!

We won't be woken by a rooster crowing in the morning -

The sergeant will wake us up - like human beings!

They practically see us off with music, once we sleep it off.

I stashed away a ruble - for a little hair of the dog!

And yet, brother, our road is a hard one!

Oh, you poor thing! Go to sleep, Seryoga!

Считай по-нашему, мы выпили не много, -

Не вру, ей-бога, - скажи, Серега!

И если б водку гнать не из опилок,

То че б нам было с пяти бутылок!

...Вторую пили близ прилавка в закуточке, -

Но это были еще цветочки, -

Потом - в скверу, где детские грибочки,

Потом - не помню, - дошел до точки.

Я пил из горлышка, с устатку и не евши,

Но - как стекло был, - остекленевший.

А уж когда коляска подкатила,

Тогда в нас было - семьсот на рыло!

Мы, правда, третьего насильно затащили, -

Ну, тут промашка - переборщили.

А что очки товарищу разбили -

Так то портвейном усугубили.

Товарищ первый нам сказал, что, мол, уймитесь,

Что - не буяньте, что - разойдитесь.

На "разойтись" я тут же согласился -

И разошелся, - и расходился!

Но если я кого ругал - карайте строго!

Но это вряд ли, - скажи, Серега!

А что упал - так то от помутненья,

Орал не с горя - от отупенья.

...Теперь позвольте пару слов без протокола.

Чему нас учит семья и школа?

Что жизнь сама таких накажет строго.

Тут мы согласны, - скажи, Серега!

Вот он проснется утром - протрезвеет - скажет:

Пусть жизнь осудит, пусть жизнь накажет!

Так отпустите - вам же легче будет:

Чего возиться, раз жизнь осудит!

Вы не глядите, что Сережа все кивает, -

Он соображает, все понимает!

А что молчит - так это от волненья,

От осознанья и просветленья.

Не запирайте, люди, - плачут дома детки, -

Ему же - в Химки, а мне - в Медведки!..

Да, все равно: автобусы не ходят,

Метро закрыто, в такси не содят.

Приятно все-таки, что нас здесь уважают:

Гляди - подвозят, гляди - сажают!

Разбудит утром не петух, прокукарекав, -

Сержант подымет - как человеков!

Нас чуть не с музыкой проводят, как проспимся.

Я рупь заначил, - опохмелимся!

И все же, брат, трудна у нас дорога!

Эх, бедолага! Ну спи, Серега!

This is a satirical poem by Vladimir Vysotsky, written in the genre of stylization as a police report, which ridicules the drunkenness and hypocrisy of Soviet society. The lyrical hero, being detained for drunken brawl, tries to justify his actions to the police officers. He uses various tricks: blames the low-quality alcohol ("If only vodka wasn't made from sawdust"), appeals to pity ("children are crying at home"), flatters ("it's nice, after all, that we are respected here"), hides behind feigned remorse ("What do family and school teach us?"). At the same time, the hero does not miss the opportunity to tease the police, hinting at their low cultural level ("Look - they give us a lift, look - they put us in!").

The image of Sergei, the silent friend of the hero, enhances the satirical effect. Sergei, being an equal participant in the events, personifies tacit agreement with the system, unwillingness to resist it.

The meaning of the poem lies in exposing the double standards of Soviet society, where drunkenness is condemned in words, but is actually the norm. Vysotsky shows how easy it is to manipulate the system using hypocrisy and demagoguery.