Recently, I have only one interlocutor who is able to listen and understand.
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I'm tired of sharing with stone faces.
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For them, my plans and principles are strange fables.
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They got angry and the conversations became a blitz.
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They give me advice, in them advising places in the hospital.
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But, with him in each of the swamps, both elbows.
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But, with him, every monologue became a dialogue.
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To others, I am a fashionable quitter, they say it gave so much.
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I'm a jack for them, because they can't see my feet in the decks.
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Fate is an evil bitch - twists, do not break the system.
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There is an assistant in your heart, they say: "Open your soul not to the walls."
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The next time you all need a conversation -
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I will say that the words in your ears are more important than earwax.
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He is the only one who, even though resentment pricks,
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Building an evil face again, but he will talk to me.
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Pain lurks in the soul and if there is no point in being angry -
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I remain in dialogue with myself, with myself!
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Chorus:
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I am not silent, I am not silent - I am talking to myself,
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After all, I don’t want, I don’t want to share life, understand, with you.
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On its own, on its own, and there is no point in screaming after me.
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In the hands of his cross, and his sky on his shoulders.
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Only the anthracite sky rests on my shoulders...
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On shoulders…
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I got your looks indifferent.
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Let it be, until there is happiness, and while luck is infrequent.
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Tomorrow I will be the one who breaks the charts.
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Who is being carried away by the charter, where everyone is screaming about here.
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One is jealous, the other sees nothing.
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The third supports, though he does not care!
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They make smoke, advising me that they beat with their foreheads -
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Not knowing how I want to stand on my feet!
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I will not allow us to live in boredom for days -
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So I'm screaming, so I'm torn, * uh, from the tendons.
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Pain lurks in the soul, and if there is no point in getting angry -
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I remain in dialogue with myself, with myself!
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Chorus:
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I am not silent, I am not silent - I am talking to myself,
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After all, I don’t want, I don’t want to share life, understand, with you.
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On its own, on its own, and there is no point in screaming after me.
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In the hands of his cross, and his sky on his shoulders.
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I am not silent, I am not silent - I am talking to myself,
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After all, I don’t want, I don’t want to share life, understand, with you.
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On its own, on its own, and there is no point in screaming after me.
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In the hands of his cross, and his sky on his shoulders.
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Only the anthracite sky rests on my shoulders... |