Inflamed with thought, the dogs rushed from the chain and went through Russia four previous
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EP,
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Siberia whispered like a blizzard, put it a beat thicker, it will become a magic potion for
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seeking and waiting.
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A charge of light inside, matter below a cent, strengthen my sword sky in front of everyone
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concert.
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On a small land, which is like a grain of sand, a fragment, we chose the road,
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knowing the path is dangerous and long.
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Under the gaze of the animals, roughly beaten by the hail, we came to your city,
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and we are waiting for you in one of the clubs,
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We kindled a fire, you make sure that the brushwood does not run out and if everything goes smoothly,
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Let's meet again.
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Sleepy Siberia is telling you again and again, catch the album for the power, from the far
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garrison.
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We will not be one day, faces under the hood, but thousands follow us
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those who are on fire.
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Chorus:
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When the pea jacket becomes too small for me and I won't hear the voices of victories.
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Promise me one of the songs, promise me a smile after.
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When the pea jacket becomes too small for me and I won't hear the voices of victories.
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Promise me one of the songs, promise me a smile after.
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I open the digital message, with a flash, life-giving thanks, for the thousandth time I
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making the same choice
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For the thousandth time, the pen draws curves on the sheet, the heart reports into space,
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I haven't dropped out yet
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The device on the record, with a peak, the voice of the soul will note, our children will not see,
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dead children in a bag
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The city is behind, and the city is still ahead, a stupid utopia, a passport, and a minus on CD.
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And upon arrival, I can’t fall asleep for a long time, new letters in digital, fall into the very
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breast.
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This miracle always has an unchanged recipe, a new written sheet, closes again
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chain.
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In our cities with you, streets with the same name, I hear you after midnight,
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you me early in the morning.
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And there are no more distances, whips, scourges and whips, we equally believe, the chain is closed.
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Chorus:
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When the pea jacket becomes too small for me and I won't hear the voices of victories.
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Promise me one of the songs, promise me a smile after.
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When the pea jacket becomes too small for me and I won't hear the voices of victories.
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Promise me one of the songs, promise me a smile after.
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Bag in luggage, tickets in hand and we rush to where they are waiting for answers.
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Where ideals are still alive in the minds and we will clap the halls with kilowatts.
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The third concert, but still in good shape, together we will demolish everything, and don't be afraid of anything.
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Wet to the waist, but I see them all, shout the loudest if you are glad to hear.
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The memory of the dead, glory to the winners, so we met again, you take it out, beautiful.
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Just imagine, we could do everything, happy faces of a healthy family,
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Happy faces of a healthy country and this will mean that everyone has returned from the war.
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Chorus:
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When the pea jacket becomes too small for me and I won't hear the voices of victories.
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Promise me one of the songs, promise me a smile after.
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When the pea jacket becomes too small for me and I won't hear the voices of victories.
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Promise me one of the songs, promise me a smile after. |