| How time goes by slowly
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| How fast will it run.
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| O! |
| how it, day after day, steals from us,
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| The only life.
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| Kindergarten and school yard,
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| institute corridor,
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| Trails of snowy, white mountains.
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| You stand with your young wife,
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| Grandson pours wine
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| And the movie ends.
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| Don't lose yourself along the way
|
| And take care of your friends
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| And never open a boutique in your soul,
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| Where at a predatory price they sell her warmth,
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| Where the sincerity of warm words is turned into a craft.
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| And knocking at night is a trifle.
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| Set tables for guests
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| And all your sins will be forgiven.
|
| Someone is trotting on the ground,
|
| Someone just crawls over it.
|
| Thirty years is ten thousand
|
| nine hundred and fifty days
|
| Thirty years old - you're still a kid:
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| Whistling in the ears and eyes burning,
|
| But for mother and father -
|
| This means that everything is not in vain,
|
| But for mother and father -
|
| You don't live on earth in vain.
|
| Forget about what has been done
|
| And hurry forward.
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| Expose your chest to all the winds,
|
| And not vice versa.
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| You take your destiny
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| Waving the victorious flag into the sky,
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| And if you lose, don't cry.
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| Simply no, there is no success without loss.
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| You have to really want
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| Fly above yourself.
|
| Someone is trotting on the ground,
|
| Someone just crawls over it.
|
| Thirty years is ten thousand
|
| nine hundred and fifty days
|
| Thirty years old - you're still a kid:
|
| Whistling in the ears and eyes burning,
|
| But for mother and father -
|
| This means that everything is not in vain,
|
| But for mother and father -
|
| You don't live on earth in vain. |