My muse, in narrow circles those who are bound by bonds
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Or in the world that hides behind the puddles
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In childhood among clock springs
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Among the achievements of personal and other people's peaks
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In digital labyrinths and in dreams
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Now lifted up, now sent and
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Became a delirium, crushes whiskey
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Like constructors of worldly problems
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Flies out from behind a telly with a voice that reads the news
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Somewhere in Rostov in a mobile phone shop
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Somewhere where in the rain is clearly in my soul a holiday
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Where ships don't see lighthouses, but the captain believes
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That the earth is nearby and the path has not been done in vain
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And let me not see a sign that she will give me
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When the asphalt cools down and winter falls on the city
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I will open my eyes, but for real
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So she's here, and now I'm all in front of her
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Leave me, muse, I will not be the same
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You are like a current that has dried up right in these lines
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A wave that rolls away from the shore into the ocean
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When you put an end to it and you see a flaw not in the text
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Do not seek, but you will find. |
You can say to yourself:
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"Who are you lying to, what is this lie for?" |
And put off
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Like a scribbled sheet, you'll tear before writing
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Maybe tomorrow, maybe you'll never return
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Show me, bring me back to life
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While pure feelings, thoughts
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Come on, muse, I need it so much
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Hall of sadness, flurry of rampage
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Show me, bring me back to life
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While feelings and thoughts are pure
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Come on, muse, I need it so much
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What are you waiting for? |
Shoot me in the chest
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Show me, bring me back to life
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Show me, bring me back to life
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In the night cold smoky hall
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I seem to be driven into a corner, like a bastard in court
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Tired traveler in an empty uncomfortable station
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I drive with my eyes, I'm stuffy, I'm suffocating
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We torment my mind with a bunch of bad thoughts
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The spirit freezes, it is dull inside, but unrecognizable
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Memory fell asleep, and nerves tightened,
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And nasty, torn to pieces by Minerva, I am a donkey in an armchair
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I was waiting for those who spat on oppressive indifference
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Who found the tares in the grain of poetry and listeners
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It would probably be better to be soulless yourself
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After all, there is nothing to slaps in the face thrown for no reason
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Leave me, you hear, scum. |
What do you want?
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They can't thaw from my passion, for the life of me
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And now the darkness does not illuminate half a verse of their pitiful day
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What now, be chained like Prometheus?
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Knocked down as if, not finding words
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Lump in throat, chills from head to toe
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No longer embittered, I no longer recognize myself
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You enter the room, illuminating with warm light
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Show me, bring me back to life
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While pure feelings, thoughts
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Come on, muse, I need it so much
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Hall of sadness, flurry of rampage
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Show me, bring me back to life
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While feelings and thoughts are pure
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Come on, muse, I need it so much
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What are you waiting for? |
Shoot me in the chest
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Show me, bring me back to life
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Show me, bring me back to life |