If your ears ached from the sounds of percussion
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If your teeth hurt, then you already know
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Bad aftertaste from polyclinics
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I don't want to see a doctor - that's how we are
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If your ears ached from the sounds of percussion
|
If your teeth hurt, then you already know
|
Bad aftertaste from polyclinics
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I don't want to see a doctor - that's how we are
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My politics know what hiring means
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Doctors don't get high on their own skin
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Dip bread in milk. |
Where is my hoodie?
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Where is my drug that can cause sleep?
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New variety of live weight is already on the fork
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Did you get what you expected from the novelty?
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As long as we are fed by meat, there will be no change
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It's too late to say - in the hands of a subscription
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For people like us, this is not even an option.
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Rest assured, car exhaust will kill us
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Much earlier than canned food can handle it
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Autopsy reports will fill their hospital server
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Doc will explain them to families, doc will announce the diagnosis
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Doc can tell you what the Lamb of God wanted
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He might even refer to it as the Buddha
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I don't want to see a doctor - that's wonderful
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If your ears ached from the sounds of percussion
|
If your teeth hurt, then you already know
|
Bad aftertaste from polyclinics
|
I don't want to see a doctor - that's how we are
|
If your ears ached from the sounds of percussion
|
If your teeth hurt, then you already know
|
Bad aftertaste from polyclinics
|
I don't want to see a doctor - that's how we are
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You, you, he, they
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Dislocations, we are all psychos
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Looking for communication through the roof
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I heard about such jumpers
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Wait tomorrow, we will sting with courage
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Without regret, we express that you gave birth
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Anasha, and our
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Pajamas with long sleeves
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barbed wire
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Weed under heaps and no need to hill up
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You can easily twist your own fins
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To foam from the mouth and pour in layers
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When such a person visits, I meet her with tea
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All the same herbal decoctions
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Still the same poison for the weak
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I don't want to see a doctor
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Everything is wrong with me, everything is not according to Malysheva
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I am wounded, killed forever, not alive enough
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Ruined furs, exchanged for a stack of stanzas
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And so many dogs are also not in vain, a hundred pounds
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I don't need iron, brothers, but I need apples,
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And I put the core on the cops yes cue
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The patient in any way pestered them, the young hardships are considerable
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To products, of which there are in bulk on God's forgotten streets
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Rewind is not an option years ago, where is Roma's coma
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She steered me, and I did not see the life of a horse except
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I broke the tree, thank God, I was not on the crowbars from shit
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Killed a lot of comrades Diggin's cereal drug store
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Even now we are not corpses - more alive than the living
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We are not rude, comrade doctor, for a long time, so you look around
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Except on the ciphers, they say, without smoke
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We read apples and listen not to Misha, but to Shym
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If your ears ached from the sounds of percussion
|
If your teeth hurt, then you already know
|
Bad aftertaste from polyclinics
|
I don't want to see a doctor - that's how we are
|
If your ears ached from the sounds of percussion
|
If your teeth hurt, then you already know
|
Bad aftertaste from polyclinics
|
I don't want to see a doctor - that's how we are |