In the absence of any meaning
|
I see peace
|
I felt victory only then
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When there is no strength left to fight
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I was taught from childhood to be afraid
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My balls are in a vise
|
Ideals were imposed on me
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Which I'm tearing to pieces now
|
I was made to pray
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Banknotes and those who wear them
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Tried to force to learn war
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But I proved to them that I'm crazy
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I'm tired of living
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In the kingdom of crooked mirrors
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I prefer to climb
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Than to sit at the foot of the rocks
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I wash hands
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I'm going to rest
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I thought I was a partisan in Babylon
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But I was at war with myself
|
Does it make sense to fight the machine
|
After all, in it the role of details is left to us
|
You just have to get out of the mechanism
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And it will break itself
|
I hate quarrels
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I prefer to remain silent
|
I hate controversy
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Since it is customary for them to shout loudly
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Truth is born in disputes
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Only fools think
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But the main truth is love
|
Is there a lot of love in disputes
|
I tried to find someone to blame
|
But at some point I realized that they were not
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And I realized that I'm the one to blame most
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In the fact that for a long time I did not see the sunlight
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I would like a house on the outskirts of the forest
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And a couple of stacks a day
|
I would lie under a linden tree and stare at the sky
|
Radiating universal laziness
|
I wash hands
|
I'm going to rest
|
I thought I was a partisan in Babylon
|
But I was at war with myself
|
Does it make sense to fight the machine
|
After all, in it the role of details is left to us
|
You just have to get out of the mechanism
|
And it will break itself
|
I wash hands
|
I'm going to rest
|
I thought I was a partisan in Babylon
|
But I was at war with myself
|
Does it make sense to fight the machine
|
After all, in it the role of details is left to us
|
You just have to get out of the mechanism
|
And it will break itself |