| I see it, Ulan-Ude is a crazy fractal
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| I already hear, there ahead of the 47th block
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| In the black courtyard past pink eyes
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| I'm running like a cop is chasing
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| In a sticky house where you can see the hole
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| There awaits my shadow of tortured words
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| My doppelgänger is suffocating there
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| He is consumed by mute longing
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| He drowns a white glacier in vodka
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| While Moscow eats me
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| Follow me with a half-deaf jamb
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| Rappers yes double tongue people
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| Behind them is a huckster, like a clever thief
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| Wondering how to sell my flow over the hill
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| Over the ocean where the cannibal lives
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| On an anthill of shit
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| He drinks a cocktail of broken souls
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| And Hennessy urinates in your glass
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| I'll tell him about my house -
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| Primitive stone yard
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| Unspoiled like a child
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| And he will direct his greedy gaze on
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| 47th block (uh-huh)
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| route 42
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| (Uh, uh-huh-uh-huh, uh-huh)
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| 47th block, 42nd route, barely alive joint
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| A half-forgotten courtyard and an unfamiliar circle
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| Half-blind lantern, my old, barely noticeable friend
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| The official chevron will burn, and the night will dress us in darkness
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| 47th block, 42nd route, barely alive joint
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| A half-forgotten courtyard and an unfamiliar circle
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| Half-blind lantern, my old, barely noticeable friend
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| The official chevron will burn, and the night will dress us in darkness
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| And I'll go back to my little house
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| I hark two words on a jerky loop
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| In a language that does not know the area
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| In an ear hole that is closed to sound
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| The moon will kill my wounded day
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| And shreds of sleep through the curtain of the eyelids
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| And the blue haze that cripples a handkerchief
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| Will fall on the gray steppe
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| Pow-pow-pow, Ulan-Ude, Ulan-Ude
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| Ulan-Ude, hashtag oasis
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| Flies over the steppe hi-tech UAZ
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| Drunk strobe lights blink
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| Incredible skyscrapers
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| Raise their phalanxes into the sky
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| Like a shadow on the wall from the hand of a shaman
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| The palm tree is crooked in the balcony window
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| Against the backdrop of the local sky
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| In sunset pink make-up
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| Interstellar crews scurry around
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| And the townspeople are talking, they say
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| Like, a rainbow in the Ulan-Ude sky
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| Draws Buddha - Ulan-Ude
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| Frozen over the city, akimbo
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| And skyscrapers to his waist
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| Ulan-Ude, oh, megalopolis
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| Mirage open on a scorching afternoon
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| To the blind boy-shepherd
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| And the horizon is like a hot baking sheet
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| Deep hides in the steppe
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| Bactrian camel laughing famously
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| Shameless head up
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| And the sun sticks with chewing gum Orbit
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| On this faded grass |