| We were brought up by these floors, mother;
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| Smoke, marijuana. |
| Change from pocket
|
| Head full of rubbish. |
| Not a little sung
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| For a soul about us.
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| And about first love, don't tell me
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| Broken hands in blood
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| You could repeat every day.
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| They themselves closed themselves from tantrums at home.
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| Yes, I was drunk, and -
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| I did not understand what was happening around life,
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| An evil fog, and through it saw parodies of me.
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| Passwords are all set, they forgot me at all
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| As they left then, so I left you after ...
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| Chorus:
|
| And we won't come back, so cheerful,
|
| So strong |
| Why do we need stars?
|
| We so wanted to live more comfortably, more beautifully,
|
| But they lost their dreams. |
| God save me!
|
| And we won't come back, so cheerful,
|
| So strong |
| Why do we need stars?
|
| We so wanted to live more comfortably, more beautifully,
|
| But they lost their dreams. |
| God save me!
|
| I woke up in bed, chained not loving,
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| Released rings from the balcony, without coughing.
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| I'm so happy, year 25, that I found myself,
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| And now it's not a shame to be someone of yesterday.
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| Step by step, buttons, phone,
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| The smile of a child distracts me.
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| Forget it, nobody cares when you can't see the sky.
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| I looked for friends with my eyes, but I rarely found them.
|
| Sent "fall in love" I will answer with a space,
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| Sorry, but you will turn sour in five days.
|
| And more what to believe in, and how to become a man,
|
| On rented huts, when clothes are in bags.
|
| Chorus:
|
| And we won't come back, so cheerful,
|
| So strong |
| Why do we need stars?
|
| We so wanted to live more comfortably, more beautifully,
|
| But they lost their dreams. |
| God save me!
|
| And we won't come back, so cheerful,
|
| So strong |
| Why do we need stars?
|
| We so wanted to live more comfortably, more beautifully,
|
| But they lost their dreams. |
| God save me!
|
| Crowds around me
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| I saw thousands of hands raised
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| If the ancestors knew just who we are -
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| They would not let children go to concerts,
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| There is a hematoma on the heart, but I'm not lying -
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| I'm just making you sound.
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| Music is a palette of letters folded by me
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| In the studio booth - a volley of large-caliber bullets.
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| We could not look into the eyes of loved ones, knowing that the path was chosen,
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| Which hardly embodied our actions in their dream.
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| The circle diminished those who were close,
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| We smiled in their eyes, as in childhood,
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| But instead of friendship, they offered business.
|
| But once we were both devoured by poverty,
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| We turned from courtyards into residents of the capital.
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| With the muse, we signed guarantees
|
| But I have heard about her arrogant nature.
|
| And with the scope of infinity, the eyes of fanatics,
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| We will tear up cities with the wind, by all means we will take what is ours.
|
| Chorus:
|
| And we won't come back, so cheerful,
|
| So strong |
| Why do we need stars?
|
| We so wanted to live more comfortably, more beautifully,
|
| But they lost their dreams. |
| God save me!
|
| And we won't come back, so cheerful,
|
| So strong |
| Why do we need stars?
|
| We so wanted to live more comfortably, more beautifully,
|
| But they lost their dreams. |
| God save me! |