Good morning, boys Good morning, girls Look at me from the window And laugh about me, yeah Cause I'm planting aluminium cucumbers On a field of canvas Three clever men from Chucotka Prove to me again and again That a metal can not bring me fruit It's not worth the trouble And the result's more work But I'm planting aluminium cucumbers On a field of canvas There's the greatest evil fatigue, It tries to catch me everywhere Its stake stabs me in my veins In trying to discover the secret of Why I'm planting aluminium cucumbers On a field of canvas Knobs, clips, and rivets, Holes, buns, and forks. As my tractors pass right by They'll fall into the money-box They'll fall into the place Where I'm planting aluminium cucumbers On a field of canvas