| Back when I was young and crazy, as they say,
|
| But sure, I worked pretty hard, yeah.
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| Stole some money from my mom, and I hit the road to Leningrad.
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| I get stopped on the next train stop, in the middle of rural Ukraine.
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| This is how it’s all begun,
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| And I will tell this story of a true rebellion.
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| Hoya hoya hoya
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| Moya paranoia.
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| (enough paranoia.)
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| Maybe I’m a man who is propelled,
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| Spinning circles of his doom.
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| Or maybe I’m just paranoid,
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| placed by the lord in this room.
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| And a bottle will always be my cover.
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| All of your eyebrows, will you please untie.
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| And if there’s any room for a Roma,
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| What else is there left to romanticize?
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| Hoya, hoya, hoya
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| moya paranoia
|
| This is only when I’m drunk,
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| Or do I see things any clearly?
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| It’s just like when one is dyslexic.
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| Whatever, I will stay discivil!
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| Hoya hoya hoya
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| Moya paranoia.
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| No ti dura.
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| (you're a dumb broad.) |