In dark alleys where
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told tales,
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And I really believed in them
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neighborhood punks,
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My life has rushed
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like a sleigh from a hill -
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Didn't jump off in time -
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and Khan happened to me.
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And I dreamed in smoke
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prison nightmare,
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It's like I'm back in this
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my youth.
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And I also dreamed
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my guitar
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And with her, according to old memory,
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I sing a proverb.
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“And how on the street alone
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There lived and there was one thug:
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Winding the term and everything - winding -
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Ah, the age of freedom is not to be seen!
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But as on the street alone
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There lived and there was one thug.
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He is in prison, and everyone is in prison,
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And I don’t understand who is more blatant.”
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In vain then beauty
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made me eyes
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I didn't believe them
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how a thief should not believe.
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And she stayed forever
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in a distant fairy tale
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Where it won't let you in
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barbed fence.
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Where the poplars
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feathers drop in spring
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Where am I running after her,
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I catch them on my breath...
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And then I wake up with a wrought iron door
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I'll slam it shut
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this youth of mine.
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“And how on the street alone
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There lived and there was one thug -
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Stole - did not steal,
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And slowly blathered.
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And how along the street one
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I followed a thieves girl,
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He is behind her, and I am behind her, -
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And in this case, I'm a thug."
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And maybe it will happen
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that this door will be opened
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And they will take you out in a shirt
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colors of white white.
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And again from memory
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driven in front of the ranks
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Mummers in front
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white poplars.
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And the days will freeze on the walls,
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crossed out with crosses
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And at the end - a square from an unlived day.
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So with freedom
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we changed places
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So this hint will
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about me. |