| Houses are lit up
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| Reflecting on the bare chest of the asphalt
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| I stand on my tiptoes
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| To better see through the windows misted
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| Where is man hiding today
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| Maybe he got stuck between the window panes
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| And beats there, buzzing like a May fly
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| Maybe on the sidewalk he got excited by the rain
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| And how the worm was crushed by a blind old woman
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| Maybe he's like a remote that fell behind the sofa
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| Maybe he's four and climbed onto his father's shoulders
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| Or maybe he's just dead drunk.
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| Lived a terrible life and burned to the ground like a candle
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| We are looking for a person
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| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
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| We are looking for a person
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| We are looking for a person
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| Ads sticking on the entrance doors
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| We guarantee a reward, we are looking for on the streets and in the yards
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| Maybe he's hiding on purpose
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| Maybe he was stuck forever on Kashirka in a traffic jam
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| Maybe he's trying to cope with the fear of death
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| Like with chopsticks to handle the noodles at the bottom of the box
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| Maybe we will never find
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| Maybe we will find him and not recognize him
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| Maybe he himself has been looking for us for a long time.
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| Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe
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| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person
|
| We are looking for a person |