| I was mated for the first time at the age of thirteen:
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| I climbed into the stall - I wanted cinnamon buns.
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| They threw bullshit on my luck,
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| Then it went, it went
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| Don't slow down, which means don't stop.
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| Eh, crafts, zapadlo-teachers,
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| Farewell, "cutter", and hello, stuffy special detention center.
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| I disliked the bars so much
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| That somehow dumped in the evening
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| With a friend on the rack, it was fun for the two of us.
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| A friend got cold feet halfway,
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| I was not taken for fear,
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| And I wandered from prison to prison.
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| There he ate, rested,
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| Then he tore his claws on a new one,
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| And finally, in Kolyma, he climbed into a lair.
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| Do you know, brother, what is she like, Kolyma?
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| I feel sorry for those who do not know the end of this.
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| Everyone says: - She is not the same.
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| And I like permafrost,
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| Although there is no taiga, the law is taiga, the bear is the master.
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| Kyle, of course, is here, brother, it's harder to wave,
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| But it's not worse than tearing a point in the allotment.
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| Here in the summer heaps of meat,
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| You can’t share a midge for everyone,
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| Almost the whole year the lads go sledding.
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| On the silvery Kolyma
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| We don't miss prison
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| Here our tears do not reach the ground,
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| A rainbow hangs on them here,
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| Ask Uncle Kozin
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| And Uncle Kozin understands in this life.
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| When I return to the mainland as a freeman,
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| My star in the cold sky will not go out.
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| Cracker will go under margarine,
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| About what we'll talk about
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| And remember the bright Nagaevskaya Bay.
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| On the silvery Kolyma
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| We don't miss prison
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| Here our tears do not reach the ground,
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| A rainbow hangs on them here,
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| Ask Uncle Kozin
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| And Uncle Kozin understands in this life. |