| Brown-eyed blonde crying -
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| Everything turned out differently
|
| Everything turned out differently, and all the flowers wilted.
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| Tanya dropped a ball into the river,
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| Ira pricked her finger painfully,
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| It hurt somewhere on the left, somewhere on the left in the chest.
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| The ball floats fast
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| And the finger does not heal for a long time,
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| The pain in the chest does not subside and emptiness lies ahead.
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| And they don't wave the red flag here,
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| The shoals do not smolder
|
| And no one hugs anyone -
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| There is no more love here!
|
| Reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae!
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| Dance on the ruins of your soul...
|
| Reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae!
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| This island used to be full of love...
|
| Reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae!
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| There was the smell of flowers and the taste of grass...
|
| Reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae!
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| Now there is nothing here - here is the edge of cold emptiness!
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| The wind sings mournfully
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| Mexican hymns.
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| And the rain knocks against the Argentine march.
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| But only hear these sounds
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| Doomed to torment
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| And those who died of boredom are resurrected this very hour.
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| Tanya quickly catches up with the ball,
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| Ira, smiling, fills her finger with iodine,
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| And reflex massage helps with pain in the heart,
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| And smiling under the red flag,
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| Enjoying rum and freedom,
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| Making love on the sand, you will not give this island to anyone!
|
| Reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae!
|
| Dance in the temple of your soul...
|
| Reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae!
|
| This is the island of love...
|
| Reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae!
|
| There is the smell of flowers and the taste of grass...
|
| Reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae reggae!
|
| Be free! |
| Love and live!!! |