A foggy evening descends on the city.
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The candles went out and the matter was shut up.
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Having wrapped their shoulders, the signorinas are walking.
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With a misty eye, but strictly repeatable.
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In the tape recorder there is a Celentano cassette,
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And we are at the reception and again drunk and drunk.
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Give money, glasses, pants, glasses ...
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In the pocket "Camel" and three packages of the plan
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Chorus:
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Where can I get Belomor? Stores are already closed ...
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Where can I get Belomor? At least half a pack ...
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Where can I get "Belomor"? Well, tell me, senora,
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Where can I get "Belomoor"? |
Otherwise, I'll get drunk!
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Punks are everywhere in the American light.
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And we are not Yankees, we are planned children.
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We love semolina, jam and sweets
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And we don't take tickets to Taganka.
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We prefer wine and discos
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And we respect the country where the Greeks lived
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And we score a scythe for fun.
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But it happens that there is no plan with us.
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Chorus.
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Where can I get Belomor? Stores are already closed ...
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Where can I get Belomor? At least half a pack ...
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Where can I get "Belomor"? Well, tell me, senora,
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Where can I get "Belomoor"? |
Otherwise, I'll get drunk!
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We will say: "Gracio" to all hemp villages.
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Hallucinations are dearer to us than hunger.
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And what is there to hide? |
We kill hunger
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And to break down? |
Let's sing again, again...
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And somewhere, somewhere on land or on the sea
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In the height of summer, we are looking for Belomor.
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Even though we kill hunger with a cigarette
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And we will sing this song again. |