| I'm sitting in a wheelbarrow
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| Smoking my blue Winston
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| And I would not break
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| After all, I'm not fastened
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| The owner and the wheelbarrow in the trash
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| Smoking my blue Winston
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| And how not to break
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| I removed the pedal from the floor
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| I take all the cigs from the glove box
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| Crowds are moving along the sidewalk,
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| But I smoke so slowly
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| One by one in a row
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| I think about money
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| How would we live tomorrow
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| After all, I'm simple as I am
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| Life is not cereal with milk,
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| And just a mixture of porridge,
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| But someone is firing, scythe
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| I turn up the volume
|
| Barking yard dog
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| Gnawing on the bones
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| Then spit up blood
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| Hands folded along the hood
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| I see their silhouettes
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| How would the protection of the people
|
| All the same dirty clothes
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| Bandits walk in uniform
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| There is nothing human here
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| Work for banknotes
|
| There are so many actors around
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| I'm in the movie as a simple type
|
| I walk along the bridge
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| I burn myself from the inside
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| I would like to believe a little
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| That there will be better days
|
| But I see how people are being poisoned
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| Right up to the graves
|
| But I will ask the country
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| Where will the kids be sent?
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| What will happen after the war
|
| A temple is being built outside the city
|
| You were told to pray
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| What would you feel
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| Fear
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| The system knits the tongue,
|
| But talent will not unleash
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| Everything will be fine again
|
| My country will rise soon
|
| Don't release the navy
|
| God himself does not like war
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| Everything will be fine again
|
| My country will rise soon
|
| Don't release the navy
|
| God himself does not like war |