Invariably in memory, your face is a smooth gloss.
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He knows only the furniture and the two of us. |
We were great.
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Neighbors behind the wall. |
We break dishes, we drink - we eat.
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Stop the dance... The dance of our bodies tormented by themselves.
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Chorus:
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But, I am from summer, and you are from cold winters.
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I am from the basements, and you are from the last floors of the houses.
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Honey, who are we fucking? |
- This is hardly love ...
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I'll leave in the morning and won't even close the door behind me.
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You will wake up alone, I will leave an empty bed, ours.
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Drink, incinerate my insides to the bottom (to the bottom), to the ground (to the ground), to the melt.
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To the bottom (to the bottom), to the ground (to the ground), to the thaw.
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Until the thawed ... The thawed ...
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You hate the morning, the emptiness, it's dull and sad in someone here.
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The crunch of snow outside the window, the flow of people - you don’t know them ... Let them go!
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Thoughts about me, but quickly got bored again,
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You so rightly decided to play on my nerves with me!
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No need to think about tomorrow, because these bullets are for breakfast
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So they burn, squeezing your heart, and there is no way back ...
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Look for me ahead, but in our song there is only one motive,
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I have to leave early in the morning!
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Chorus:
|
But, I am from summer, and you are from cold winters.
|
I am from the basements, and you are from the last floors of the houses.
|
Honey, who are we fucking? |
- This is hardly love ...
|
I'll leave in the morning, and I won't even close the door behind me.
|
You will wake up alone, I will leave an empty bed, ours.
|
Drink, incinerate my insides to the bottom (to the bottom), to the ground (to the ground), to the melt.
|
To the bottom (to the bottom), to the ground (to the ground), to the thaw.
|
Until the thawed ... The thawed ...
|
But, I am from summer, and you are from cold winters.
|
I am from the basements, and you are from the last floors of the houses.
|
Honey, who are we fucking? |
- This is hardly love ...
|
This is hardly love... |