Endless evening, Ikea chair, surviving empire
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Behind an uncurtained window, closing his eyelids, he watches repetitions
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Lives are like thousands of open tabs with coub videos
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And she doesn't care about your meeting tomorrow or the final episode
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To which subtitles have not yet been translated, she has long hunched over
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In a black robe like death from a caricature and under the rubble will bury
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Trunks that trample around their axis, tell Biryulyovo
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My friend, about your parting, write whatever you want to the Vodnik pre-trial detention center
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Understand yourself and you need to find out what will happen next with Jon Snow
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You have heard something about hunger strikes in the colonies, but the cold does not really
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Finish reading Tolokonnikova's letter, space flies through the window with snow
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Don't go for a walk if the weather is not good, look, they give you a beautiful sweatshirt at a discount
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Silent empire, like a merman, heavy belly, stale skin groans
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You can barely hear how she lost her pension in a tram going from the market:
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"Remind me when the stop is?"
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Take her home as she was in her youth
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Only the great dead know, through a playlist in Gorky Park |
Do not hear their whisper, everyone has things to do, but she has not a single one left
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You can no longer keep yourself in the shape of a railroad rail with fragile adhesive tape
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They barely hold it, and if you press the pedal in the push of the train, you can see her belly
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For which they went to execution or hard labor, the characters look funny
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Louis Vuitton's suitcase contains the belt of the Virgin, the cheeks of officials
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Stuffed with cheap Kremlin lunch, golden pistols falling out of their asses
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Blizzard and concrete are your spiritual bonds, time to invent your own personal ethics
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Here you are alone against everyone and there is no more common past
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The path to the train, to the stairs, to the elevator, from castle to castle, from cell to cell
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In the picture of the world, a dotted line from new buildings to ruins
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Corporate paddy wagons are taken to a new day for a new penal servitude
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Collect things, details, signs and symbols like the wreckage of the Tower of Babel
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The path to the entrance, to the stairs, to the elevator, from castle to castle, from cell to cell
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The state of plastic cards has not come to replace the country of passbooks
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Tablets and gadgets cannot be cooked like a peel from a turnip found |
In a pile of slops and sewage, frozen in the backyard of the barracks
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You close your eyes and see how cigarette butts float in the sea of the Baltic Nine
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Small Kon-Tiki boats, continents of shit wrapped in candy wrappers
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In a stuffy kitchen, echoes of intoxication, the Universe is reclining on a vomited tablecloth
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Outside the window, in the cold, the last sounds of despair or joy ring
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An early traffic light is a prologue to a new life, an old one to hell
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Get out of bed, it's time to serve visitors, start the units
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Roll eggs in underpants or cotton pants far beyond the Moscow Ring Road
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Fiber optics was carried out a long time ago, but to be understood here you need to add "nah"
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To each phrase, like a broken tram car reaching for a working tram
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Underground water freezes in pipes, information gets stuck in wires
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Because of blood clots, it is difficult to compare two simple thoughts, the cerebral cortex dries,
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But DNA still remembers the queue and coupons for vodka, a stain on Gorbachev's bald head
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The shoots of consciousness sprouted to the songs and dances of Yeltsin, the drunken baby
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On absentee couples, the clue to what is now written on Facebook |
Olshansky
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I would like to go to a new high school, but I need to hold on to my workplace
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The mythical pension increase grows due to seniority
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There is no need to improve the level of qualifications, the main thing is not to pay attention
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How huge spiders are sawing the workshop in which you operate levers
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Machine tools eat up tired workers, like the Prince of Persia, you run for an envelope with
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money
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On TV screens, an aerowafer flies into the mouth of the live broadcaster
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Jump home on the fragments of the ice-floe-country, in a dream you will see yourself as a partisan
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Dig up a T-shirt with Marshal Zhukov, you must put it on
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A lonely stall, a frozen can, cigarettes marked "suffering"
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The urban collective unconscious will help you forget about your future
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The path to the train, to the stairs, to the elevator, from castle to castle, from cell to cell
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It blows with the wind, the rope on the belt is tighter and you hide the ax
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Abandoned city hall has turned into a squat and you are not accepted into the company
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A subtle leap from knowledge economy to urban guerrilla warfare
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The path to the train, to the stairs, to the elevator, from castle to castle, from cell to cell |
It's time to solder the iPhone into a boiler, sew a sheepskin coat from cases and magazines
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Hide the gas key in your bosom, and all useless knowledge
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Collected by you for life - throw away like the wreckage of the Tower of Babel |