| I scattered the ashes of my former
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| I haven't spent even the best cards
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| All subscribers are busy
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| Where are my friends when I tell them the truth
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| Get on the knee bitch
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| I'm an asshole in life, but fuck off crying
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| They are friends for hype
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| I chose the path of not creating an idol
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| Do not sell them the West, but write
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| I know a lot of those who want fame
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| For work on a couple of songs
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| They scream that everything is not fair,
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| But their word weighs so little and there is nothing in their heads
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| Lack of ideas - yes, they know a lot about it
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| You forgot that someone builds the world
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| While the townsfolk pay for comfort
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| Praise your own kind
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| Club of anonymous lovers like theirs
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| They hear a fashionable bitochek,
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| But no tune, no punches, and the fuse is already burning,
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| And why the hell should I
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| Write dirt under 808 when there are no rules
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| You built a framework for the genre
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| I twist your school and choose the vector myself
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| And I don't give a fuck
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| You've seen self-centered assholes - yes, I'm the worst
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| Yesterday I monitored how many of you are there,
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| And today I don’t see a bunch of things
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| Their tastes are a dense forest,
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| But we only love rattling slang
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| And we come out of gray and boring places
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| And we carry a masterpiece from improvised means
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| I will not stay here until old age, give me time to write
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| Oh, don't let me die not a legend, lose my fuse
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| Oh, oh, come for me my spring
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| I've been waiting for you for so long, I've been waiting for you for so long
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| I will not stay here until old age, give me time to write
|
| Oh, don't let me die not a legend, lose my fuse
|
| Oh, oh, come for me my spring
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| I've been waiting for you for so long, I've been waiting for you for so long
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| I will not stay here until old age, give me time to write
|
| Oh, don't let me die not a legend, lose my fuse
|
| Oh, oh, come for me my spring
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| I've been waiting for you for so long, I've been waiting for you for so long
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| If the artist's feelings are the means to kindle
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| You play with fire, but go from simple to complex
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| The path in verse to old age, from obsessive dullness,
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| But without waiting for mercy, do nothing better
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| When it became dark in the eyes, as if everything was covered with a blanket
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| I take with me growth failures and Moscow dampness
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| To the horizon of creativity that does not sing to me about satiety
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| Look for the root of your problems in the patronymic
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| You ended your life with honors, but what do you know about loneliness
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| All words from the viscous pool
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| All conversations are reduced to disputes; |
| clear and cold
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| I'll tell you how to live happily, fairy tales are inexpensive
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| No time to wait
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| Until spring there is too much ground from under your feet
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| The Muse has millstones, and so many of us are ground in them
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| I will not stay here until old age, give me time to write
|
| Oh, don't let me die not a legend, lose my fuse
|
| Oh, oh, come for me my spring
|
| I've been waiting for you for so long, I've been waiting for you for so long
|
| I will not stay here until old age, give me time to write
|
| Oh, don't let me die not a legend, lose my fuse
|
| Oh, oh, come for me my spring
|
| I've been waiting for you for so long, I've been waiting for you for so long
|
| I will not stay here until old age, give me time to write
|
| Oh, don't let me die not a legend, lose my fuse
|
| Oh, oh, come for me my spring
|
| I've been waiting for you for so long, I've been waiting for you for so long |