I'm not telling you this
|
I'm not sure why
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I played the punch
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Don't call me Pastor
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When we were sniffing
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I threw a bad joke
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And we might win
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Or sit fire
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But the most important thing is that
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You will never bend your heads
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That's why we must persevere
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Even the shit is coming
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You never know
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Where the hustle and bustle of the sun leads
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And the source of them now sit up really never
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Schools are not attended
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There are stones unturned
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Together on a trip
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And no doubt
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That day is coming
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You don't have time for all this
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And not the slimmest of moments
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Remember to borrow anymore
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The boys ask if they can be picked up?
|
But the passing doors remain swinging
|
The roads are never completely silent
|
And there will always be new ones passing by
|
The boys ask if they can be picked up?
|
But the passing doors remain swinging
|
The roads are never completely silent
|
And there will always be new ones passing by
|
I'm tired of skaba
|
Splashed rapa
|
At the bottom and
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Goals back
|
Batteries should be charged
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That's why I'm pedaling
|
Along the road in Lahdent, fortunately I have a straw
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But the tavern you enter is hard to return to hike
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No one comes to pick it up
|
Keep freezing
|
No membership
|
Formal qualifications
|
Years of experience
|
Posting abroad
|
But I take the challenge in the middle of competitiveness pollution
|
You're not going strong
|
One should remember to cover the back
|
If the rearview mirror is Tsiiga, I don't see a halo
|
It's time for me to sell the car
|
And start walking again
|
The boys ask if they can be picked up?
|
But the passing doors remain swinging
|
The roads are never completely silent
|
And there will always be new ones passing by
|
The boys ask if they can be picked up?
|
But the passing doors remain swinging
|
The roads are never completely silent
|
And there will always be new ones passing by
|
Yes, there would still be a banana to carry
|
But there are thousands of people passing by
|
The boat rides every stop
|
but you seem to be hard on a boy like me
|
And for others who are on the edge of the highway, happiness awaits
|
The Finns kindly queue up
|
The lost generation spit on the side of the road
|
And he dreams of a moment somewhere
|
Gradually, fear creeps along the spine
|
I may not be in a hurry anymore
|
Do not fly the wings
|
A visit from a commander-in-chief ate a man
|
It's no longer a mere street dust swallow
|
The boys ask if they can be picked up?
|
But the passing doors remain swinging
|
The roads are never completely silent
|
And there will always be new ones passing by
|
The boys ask if they can be picked up?
|
But the passing doors remain swinging
|
The roads are never completely silent
|
And there will always be new ones passing by
|
The boys ask if they can be picked up?
|
But the passing doors remain swinging
|
The roads are never completely silent
|
And there will always be new ones passing by
|
The boys ask if they can be picked up?
|
But the passing doors remain swinging
|
The roads are never completely silent
|
And there will always be new ones passing by |