You put an end to me, but
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I will put it on my back
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And I will carry him to the mountain below
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Your laughter and the music of your rap
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And if I get tired along the way
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I'll put it under my arm
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And my Jesus will become poetry,
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And the cross of the crucifixion will become a book
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I'll open it - it's not interesting there
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And I will forget his texts,
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But the time will come, I will despair...
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That's when I'll read!
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The book will tell my songs
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And the swing will stop
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And then it will turn into a cross...
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Was on the back now on the neck
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I'm delirious from myself
|
nice
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By fate, as if by a beat ...
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In the throat
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My piece having been in the mouth,
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But I'll get there - having been in hell
|
Again
|
I'm delirious from myself
|
nice
|
By fate, as if by a beat ...
|
In the throat
|
My piece having been in the mouth,
|
But I'll get there - having been in hell
|
Not getting hits
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Then it turns out, in fact,
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And we will always be puppies
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If we only sing about a bitch!
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We are all in the streets in clubs
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Going from Devil to God
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Everyone dreamed of being Robin Hood
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But only the arrows came out sideways!
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And I ask for rain for plowing
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Every autumn not from the windows
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I go praying until sunset
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In field
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I go and immediately take an umbrella!
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I stand and demand more
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For the abracadabra to rise
|
My
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Please send me God rain ...
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And he goes
|
When I go back
|
I'm delirious from myself
|
nice
|
By fate, as if by a beat ...
|
In the throat
|
My piece having been in the mouth,
|
But I'll get there - having been in hell
|
Again
|
I'm delirious from myself
|
nice
|
By fate, as if by a beat ...
|
In the throat
|
My piece having been in the mouth,
|
But I will come - you understand ... |