Crimson light, everyone is warmed by something.
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Music breaks us under the filter of cigarettes.
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Each has its own feature, everyone dances catchy.
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"Just don't be quiet!" |
echoes screamed.
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Evening is my short story, young in music,
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In the dance you grew cold, you were not tired.
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My novella in music was getting younger,
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In the dance you grew cold, you wanted so long.
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My novella in music was getting younger,
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In the dance you grew cold, you were not tired.
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My novella in music was getting younger,
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In the dance you are cold ...
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Today it is fashionable to be fit to dance.
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The girls will be sad if you're fleeting.
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The most beautiful evening, a couple of sips is easier for me.
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To hell with all these candles, touching your shoulders.
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My short story, young in music,
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In the dance you grew cold, you were not tired.
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My novella in music was getting younger,
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In the dance you grew cold, you wanted so long.
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My novella in music was getting younger,
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In the dance you grew cold, you were not tired.
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My novella in music was getting younger,
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In the dance you are cold ...
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I am the youngest, I feel with my soul.
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I'm the youngest, let's cover the music,
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Cover me like snowfalls fell on your body.
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Time slowly flew by like kisses on the back.
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It sang, sang about the very thing where you can’t get me.
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I haven't danced for a long time so as not to leave.
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I don't care about big clouds today.
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Today I'm leaving for the sunset, I'm screaming: "Bye!"
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My short story, young in music,
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In the dance you grew cold, you were not tired.
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My novella in music was getting younger,
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In the dance you grew cold, you wanted so long.
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My novella was getting younger in music, you were getting colder in dance...
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My novella in music was getting younger,
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In the dance you grew cold, you were not tired.
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My novella in music was getting younger,
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In the dance you are cold ... |