| Mom, I'm not lying to the soul, like a house, but a door without a lock.
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| Noisy in the kitchen boiling tea
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| And every day, like a drop of boiling water,
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| It will cool down by running away on the vertebrae.
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| It’s a pity that moms don’t stick a band-aid on the soul,
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| Do not smear the heart with greenery,
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| The ships left the land
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| And disappeared somewhere beyond the edge of the ocean,
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| What is infinity or less than a small puddle
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| And no one treats this, it's impossible, and it's not necessary.
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| What to regret what is fast so the light is good,
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| Cheer up the tail and don't give a damn about trembling.
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| Can you understand mom's soul,
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| Even if you enter without a lock, you will not understand.
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| So what, what
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| Do not stick a plaster on the soul,
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| Do not smear the heart with greenery,
|
| The ships left the land
|
| And disappeared somewhere beyond the edge of the ocean,
|
| What is infinity or less than a small puddle
|
| And no one treats this, it's impossible, and it's not necessary.
|
| Do not stick a plaster on the soul,
|
| Do not smear the heart with greenery,
|
| The ships left the land
|
| And disappeared somewhere beyond the edge of the ocean,
|
| What is infinity or less than a small puddle
|
| And no one treats this, yes, it is impossible, and it is not necessary. |