| Don't reach for the stars
|
| For those who are too tired, lost their way, do not seriously believe (in the sun)
|
| Everything turns to dust
|
| And the wind of the Universe will make you forget who you were here (but you will return)
|
| Don't reach for the stars
|
| For those who are too tired, lost their way, do not seriously believe (in the sun)
|
| Everything turns to dust. |
| Everything turns to dust
|
| Everything turns to dust. |
| Everything turns
|
| The world around me is one cruel prank
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| And my house of cards shattered to smithereens
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| Too many disappointments and losses
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| Live to a hundred, oh well, bro, live to see the morning
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| My awards are a mourning memorial
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| I read as best I can, you read me a moral
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| I did not go over the heads, I did not dirty my hands
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| And from these memoirs will come a good noir
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| I'm stuffy from myself, and I need to move my soul away from myself
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| But I'll give myself a chance for a better me
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| I answer, it's not easy to live, being responsible for the market
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| Are you a daredevil? |
| Then it was not worth pi.det behind the eyes
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| I'm definitely out of fashion
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| We sinned, but we were different in their years
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| Young fucked up something again
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| But flex is when things don't go wrong with the word |
| My music is empty, the muse is tired and asleep
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| She does not insert at all, like exhausted alcohol
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| Seance, the call of the spirits of antiquity
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| Appears my style, leaning on a crutch
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| But why do I need combat? |
| tearing up idle
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| We used to swing on the street, now the arrows on the stream
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| Things like that, you're kidding, come on, bye-bye
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| Install a new shooter and die there
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| I pray to heaven take away my pain
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| But by lot I again get a new fight
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| And nothing can be changed - in my prayers there is anger
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| I continue to burn out among the falling stars
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| My poems sound like a sad obituary
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| I fell, I can't get up, because there is no one around
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| Enemies for friends, friends for enemies
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| Every man for himself, we play gods
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| My wings were cut off by the doctor and wrote out a prescription
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| I left the window with a new mask on my face
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| I don't want to stay here...
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| How many times have I died, but miraculously whole
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| Areas are dying like this Moulin Rouge
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| Insatiable uncle Scrooge fills his pockets
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| We are promised from the screen about salvation for souls
|
| But a warm bloody shower is pouring on the head from the tap
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| Big money makes the weather here
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| Big money here make shoulder straps |
| They come without asking, not counting the hunger
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| The gods won't feed us, so don't anger God
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| Rostov is in touch, Moscow is not available
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| I took it by the throat, longing will not recede
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| Unread letters, tones, moans on WhatsApp
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| I'm tired, I'm weak, but I'll hide it behind the facade
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| Lament and erase, I sent and erased
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| That's right - such poems are sent to the fire
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| I wanted to write, send and forget
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| If it's five minutes, just call
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| And I'm running, turning back time
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| My alters are screaming to me: "Look not to sleep"
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| But I'm crazy, I'm not seven spans in my forehead
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| Seven Fridays in the week, so don't mess around
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| At the door on the threshold a vice appeared
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| He goes to the tatami, but I overcame him
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| Another duel will not end well
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| I remember the funeral calendar
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| I hear a step, I hear a trigger click
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| There is silk blood on my white shirt
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| You take me to these stars, heaven on the throne
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| Fill up the control, brother, beat the control
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| Don't reach for the stars
|
| For those who are too tired, lost their way, do not seriously believe (in the sun)
|
| Everything turns to dust |
| And the wind of the Universe will make you forget who you were here (but you will return)
|
| Don't reach for the stars
|
| For those who are too tired, lost their way, do not seriously believe (in the sun)
|
| Everything turns to dust. |
| Everything turns to dust
|
| Everything turns to dust. |
| Everything turns
|
| Don't reach for the stars
|
| For those who are too tired, lost their way, do not seriously believe (in the sun)
|
| Everything turns to dust
|
| And the wind of the Universe will make you forget who you were here (but you will return)
|
| Don't reach for the stars
|
| For those who are too tired, lost their way, do not seriously believe (in the sun)
|
| Everything turns to dust. |
| Everything turns to dust
|
| Everything turns to dust. |
| Everything turns |