I looked around, everything is quiet, there seems to be no tail, the well of the yard, the pit of the black passage
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Boarded up. |
Chart would have taken this light, sticking from above like a Chukhon freak.
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The way out is a rotten fire escape, fragile, crap, and windows all around.
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The floors crawl so deadly slowly past trembling, tormented hands.
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Why are you staring, motherfucker, I'm not naked! |
I'm not to you, I'm not a womanizer, not a thief!
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I am a terrorist! |
I am Ivan Pomodorov! |
Stop talking, our trump card is terror!
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Chorus:
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Tra-ta-ta-ta-ta! |
Tra-ta-ta-ta-ta!
|
The leaky roof rattles under my feet, I dive into the suffocating darkness of the attic.
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While everything is fine. |
Pigeons, be quiet! |
Fuck calmly, I'm not your enemy.
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Here it is - a hiding place, pulled out a black muzzle from it, wiped it, checked the shutter
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He jabbed a machine gun at the smoke-stained glass in the muzzles of neighborhoods gnawing open space.
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The rumble of voices from below, with a nervous paw, raked the vanity into a fatal vice.
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Are you bored gray? |
In a moment, I will drip the truth onto your meek brains.
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Chorus:
|
Tra-ta-ta-ta-ta! |
Tra-ta-ta-ta-ta!
|
The people froze, cut by bullets, twitched, gasped, broke into a screech
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My psychedelic cacophony exploded in the middle, right-left, top-bottom.
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Eat for free, queens of nature, thoughts, ideas, all that I lived.
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Tear with toothless mouths the freedom stuck between your veins.
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Chorus:
|
Tra-ta-ta-ta-ta! |
Tra-ta-ta-ta-ta!
|
Tra-ta-ta-ta-ta! |
Tra-ta-ta-ta-ta!
|
The people came to their senses, made a fool of themselves, climbed onto the roof - Knit the scoundrel!
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“I’m single,” spitting up blood, he howled during interrogations, barely breathing.
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- For the sake of love for you, I went to torment, but you lost your shrines!
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- There's nothing, f*ck, to stir up the people! |
They really took him... Tra-ta-ta!
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Chorus:
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Tra-ta-ta-ta-ta! |