We are looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for the way to the house
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way to home
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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Firmament starry stencil
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In the atmosphere it would be malicious not to burn out
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That aseptolin wild mumble
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Just Mandalorian is my dialect
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And you thought you'd be like Star-Lord
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And you thought you'd be like Boba Fett
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Yes, but infinity is not the limit
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And you carry a hair dryer to the grave without pale
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The freshest air, already sickening
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Lost in a haystack and can't find it
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To your inner Kyshtym the right path
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As if the humanoid Alyoshenka
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Aliens in kokoshniks will meet me
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With a loaf and salt, already trembling in the hands
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And they say: "Happy birthday, bro
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Treat your head with plantain "
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Let fate throw out a trick
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Dine will require tar
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A dagger plunges into the back up to the hilt
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Having made a cog at a cotton factory, let
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May the Motherland affectionately
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On the way, he will collect a string bag for me
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Spreading me on the heating main
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Snow angel drunk on the board
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And we're looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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Huge nostrils - wormholes
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Sneaking through the air gallon after gallon
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We are looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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You thought to go to your home planet
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But again returned to the house of cardboard
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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After a hundred years of wandering, I
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I'm still at zero
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No matter how my brain boils
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I'm still at zero
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Will find me in the blue haze
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Grown-up son
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And he will say: “Dad, what kind of aliens, damn it? |
You're drunk, let's go home"
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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Looking for a way home
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Searching and looking for a way home
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The freshest air, already sickening
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Lost in a haystack and can't find it
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To your inner Kyshtym the right path
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As if the humanoid Alyoshenka
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Aliens in kokoshniks will meet me
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With a loaf and salt, already trembling in the hands
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And say "Happy birthday, bro
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Treat your head with plantain "
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Would fly off on parsecs
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Would fly away, yes for good
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Space beckons the young
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And three decades later
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Fly away like the first snow
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Fly away to be empty
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You spend the night completely flying away
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In the forest belt
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(“There’s no one, who the fuck knows why it all stopped.
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Like an alien on his flying saucer.
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Inopr ... and a native of Shire ... How is it? ..
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Iproshelenets ... How is it? .. Not ... Inoshapotyani") |