| The taste of honey on the lips,
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| The weight of apple branches
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| Bitter sugary tobacco
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| The smoke of the last cigarette.
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| The rustle of pale blue curtains,
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| Soft car noise
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| And a ruby beak
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| On a table covered in dust.
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| On this unearthly evening
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| We spend life with you.
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| For a day exhausted anger
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| Sleeping on a pink pillow
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| And foot on foot
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| There was indifference.
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| Longing fingers knock
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| On a dull piano cover.
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| Vein blue temple
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| It beats, but you can't hear it.
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| This room is empty
 | 
| We spend life with you.
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| Unimaginable sur
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| Nature wants to draw.
 | 
| Dark velvet suit
 | 
| So to face tonight.
 | 
| Just do not stretch the canvas,
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| Damp subframe in the corner.
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| The wind blew, the floor creaked
 | 
| And with a yawn, the shutters closed.
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| This room is empty
 | 
| We spend life with you.
 | 
| Having finished playing the nocturne from the sheet,
 | 
| Bright light removes the ramp.
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| Siamese cat eye
 | 
| He winked at the table lamp.
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| Easy key turn
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| In silence with a roll of thunder.
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| Small and smells unfamiliar
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| The cloak is not from my shoulder.
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| And someone else's pain in the house
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| We spend life with you.
 | 
| We spend our lives with you
 | 
| It's unbearable to be a slave
 | 
| The moon is cracked, chipped and pockmarked.
 | 
| In the morning the stars will burn out
 | 
| But there is still time to catch up
 | 
| This strange train leaving me.
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| Lie down on a sleeping needle
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| Black Whitney sticky voice
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| Black suede heel
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| A splinter stood on the mirror.
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| Reversed shutter -
 | 
| The answering machine suddenly clicked.
 | 
| It is strange to hear: "Good evening!"
 | 
| At five in the morning from no one.
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| This room is empty
 | 
| Where you and I said goodbye to life. |