| "Hey, what are you, fucking Mowgli, where did you climb
|
| oh you fucking yes I you still spitting scoundrel
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| who did he think he was, well, get off bitch get off
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| Yes, he shows us his ass, admire the scoundrel"
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| I'm sitting on the highest pole
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| fly son to the feeder according to your merits, I will give you
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| today and always my working day until it stops
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| if you're a dirty pervert, I'm your thorn in disgrace
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| I have a beautiful view from here
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| to factories processing shit in jam
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| structures are launched, faggots are enriched,
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| and I'm blowing my mouth while vaccinating the masses
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| my work is so difficult no one pays for it
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| and therefore not a single simpleton signs up to work in a brigade
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| you have to sleep a little on a pillar to climb until dawn
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| until the garbage wakes up with the desire to slap my fuck
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| in winter and summer, from here I scatter the seed of truth to the wind
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| which the fuck will sprout on this ungrateful soil
|
| after a hard day's work I peer into the darkness
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| I quietly go down only the last cop freezes at the post
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| finally I'm in the entrance control hair as I left |
| in place on the door or the feds already guessed about him
|
| and now they will tie it up in the hut clean how cute
|
| did some bitch use my soap
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| After all, they are squeamish for this, yeah, they sit on a show-off, you see, they specially wet it or am I too suspicious
|
| I brush my coat teeth on the floor I lie down on top I don’t even masturbate dick
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| one eye is always open longing constant nix
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| on one of these nights Vladimir Vladimirych's people will come
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| they will start torturing or put the Lyube group in even worse
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| ok try to sleep soon be fresh again
|
| what do you know about existentialism, can you fucking kids know?
|
| learn to live any phone number
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| FUCKING EMO YOU DON'T KNOW PAIN
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| I'm like Stalin and Lenin Sorokin and Pelevin
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| get on your knees you fucking deer
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| learn to live any phone number
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| FUCKING EMO YOU DON'T KNOW PAIN
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| huuuli you survived, I'll show you all
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| shove your theories up your ass you slippery beetle
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| how I got here, I don't want to know anything,
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| I am a simple person, my father and mother gave birth to me
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| brought up fed mashed potatoes and given to slaughter
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| now the convoy is leading me to the meat grinder
|
| or who is this, a passer-by, a conductor in a tram |
| shop assistant or good samaritan,
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| who wants to fuck me eat my liver
|
| policeman grandma homeless this stream is unlimited
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| I want to escape from the chaos of faces and twitchy nerves
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| fall with your eyes down and go nowhere,
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| winter forever in an empty apartment
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| a house without an address and fingers without prints
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| summons to the army, news on the radio
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| They hung me on strings, they want to fool me
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| I see them even through the curtains on the windows
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| they watch and wait for me to give up or die
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| I didn't do anything, I was just born,
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| wanted to have a good time
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| why did I turn out so humanoid,
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| it would be better if this fucking seed turned sour
|
| I would be curdled milk in my grandmother's jar
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| I would be used for the intestines and larynx
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| benign bacteria and a set of vitamins
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| it would be nice if I wasn't a person,
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| but here they grabbed my hand
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| young man senior sergeant dick knows what
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| your documents where you are going let's go
|
| and I see how they lead me to their huge dining room
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| there are portraits of the Prime Minister on the walls everywhere |