| Immunity is due to the cold that gives us a crack in the window
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| Strength of character - blows from the back that opened our eyes to things
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| May everything that we promised within these walls be fulfilled
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| Let us be silent, the song will be over, but not completed
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| A cage and a half by two, a look at the ceiling, “Are you still alive there? |
| It's a bug, bro!"
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| Three Kents and with a handkerchief got into their heads, but we are together
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| I wasn’t ready, I didn’t take it, no, I didn’t see it, I took it with my feet into the puck. |
| Lead the second!
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| Out of place bulk, a story with development, “-Then we’ll make a track. |
| Where do you pour it?"
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| Calls from parents, really stupid, but you have to live somehow, and the prospects
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| doubtful
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| I no longer see myself among the long-livers, but to live means to fight as long as I breathe!
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| I often think, when I go to bed, it will be different, I will find out everything, I will learn everything
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| The designs are complex from the teeth by heart, that day will come when I touch the sky!
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| On the platforms between the floors, the air is stale, the cassette player in the hands, autumn,
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| 2004th
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| November zaduvalovo, entrance, hide from the climate, at sixteen, like a dog,
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| crushed and exhausted
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| Evening patrol, they say thefts have become more frequent, look for us in the footsteps between the abandoned
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| three-storey buildings
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| We do not give change for travel, more often we only ask, my cold Universe in
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| rusty bus
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| And how to think about my future, fighting a snowstorm, stretching my 120 rubles for
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| week
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| We drive fast, according to forecasts, the wind will increase, Silver Nissan, to the central
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| hotel
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| There is something missing, yes, okay, nothing, I didn’t think that everything would be like that,
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| 8 years later
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| In the hall, from the number of people who came, the air is stale, and I almost lost my sense in 2004
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| Handrails in the cold burned out prints, in the city everything is as one,
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| now they won't distinguish
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| A muddy blizzard with soot and CHP emissions hides the paths of the lost,
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| in the form of loops and rings
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| What kind of power can there be? |
| We are stupidly abandoned, but it's warm at the entrance, and I'm already good
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| A game of post-apocalypse, each of the surviving roads, yellow eyes are watching us
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| hospitals and poles
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| At sixteen at once an adult, it's too late to be young, so what would I do then,
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| hearing "Frontiers" or "Smoke"?
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| There will be no answer again, it will get stuck in a quagmire, but teach life to the same snotty
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| and blue
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| Our dens amuse themselves: “It is you, not someone there? |
| Tell me better like a tambour
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| open, share your experience!”
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| Answers do not hold back the flurry of questions, waking up, I will not always answer,
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| who wrote this sheet
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| Immunity is due to the cold that gives us a crack in the window
|
| Strength of character - blows from the back that opened our eyes to things
|
| May everything that we promised within these walls be fulfilled
|
| Let us be silent, the song will be over, but not completed |