Longing flees, flees, no one reaches it
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Longing flies, leaves the heart bitter
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Longing flees, flees, no one reaches it
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Longing flies, leaves the heart bitter
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I feel the blood of a Romanian, it flows in my veins
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I see so many signs carved in wood
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In the view of Caraiman
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It's as if I see Mihai Viteazul riding a horse
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I feel it when I leave Bucharest, it's in the clay from the old houses, in stories
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It's in the oven fire, it's in the wine on the table, the words in the folklore
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Dressed in suits, they count their RON, but we know: gentlemen come from the country too
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I am the most Romanian of the earthlings, I am at home among the people of Maramureș
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Cheerful near Oltenia, calm with Transylvanians, a little dizzy when I'm still with
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Moldovan
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Damn, give us peace, you know, whatever it is, blood is not made of water!
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Longing flees, flees, no one reaches it
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Longing flies, leaves the heart bitter
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Longing flees, flees, no one reaches it
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Longing flies, leaves the heart bitter
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Probably the parental home isn't for sale, no, it's best you take care of it yourself
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He needed me, I felt attracted, I only felt at home with my family
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It always seemed better - where I'm not, it's probably better
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Maybe that's why they left
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It's a drama, I feel my mother's mother calling me or my mother's mother
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And the memories were hidden on the dusty shelf above
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When we ran barefoot and there were many more of us and I had no fear
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And only on deserted nights, when tears flow
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Longing, longing flees, no one reaches it, no!
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Longing flees, flees, no one reaches it
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Longing flies, leaves the heart bitter
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Longing flees, flees, no one reaches it
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Longing flies, leaves the heart bitter
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Wherever my steps go, my soul is full of them
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This longing does not leave me, it does not leave me
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The same word and the same thought always binds me to this earth
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The most beautiful place is home, it's home!
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Longing, longing, longing… |