| I remember the old days
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| How did you get into prison for the first time?
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| On the bunk, got it, on the bunk, damn it, on the bunk!
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| I was ruined at the same time:
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| Guitar, cards and wine
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| And shmars, I understand, and shmars, damn it, and shmars!
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| Noise in Rostov-on-Don
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| And they collect all the punks -
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| Bazaars, got it, bazaars, fucking bazaars!
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| There he fumbled a girl alone,
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| There he harried a girl alone ...
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| Nightmares, got it, nightmares, fucking nightmares!
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| So they brought me to court,
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| And the judges shake their eggs:
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| “Three years you shine, damn it, three years!”
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| And the prosecutor sits in the corner
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| And pounding on the table with a dick -
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| A hint, they say, you will not see freedom!
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| Witnesses carry Gandon,
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| And the judges put pressure, even though they piss:
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| "Give it to the paw, to the paw, damn it, to the paw!"
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| I couldn't give it to my paw,
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| Thundered to the fullest
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| To the North, damn it, to the North by stage!
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| I'm sitting on the bunk, looking for fleas,
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| I don't want to peel potatoes
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| Free of charge, understood, free of charge, fucking, free of charge!
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| And free fraera
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| They walk from night to morning
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| And shmars, I understand, and shmars, damn it, and shmars!
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| I disappeared for zero price
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| Dreams about the will at night
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| Nightmares, got it, nightmares, fucking nightmares!
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| But I did not lose my soul,
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| I took fate by the collar,
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| I grabbed it for the bastard, for the bastard, damn it,
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| for the bastard!
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| Well, finally, we waited:
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| We are being kicked out of prison.
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| Freedom, got it, freedom, fucking freedom!
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| The best time has come
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| We all shouted: "Hurrah!"
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| Fucking freaks, moral freaks!
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| Our car was packed
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| And I, like a whore with a bowler hat,
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| On the sleepers, I understand, on the sleepers, damn it,
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| on sleepers!
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| And the bowler hat beats in the ass,
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| And the lid gives off a ringing sound
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| Nightmarish, got it, nightmarish, damn
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| nightmarish!
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| And the bowler hat beats in the ass,
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| And the lid gives off a ringing sound
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| Nightmarish, understood, nightmarish, fucking,
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| nightmarish!
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| Somehow came home
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| The godfather meets with a poker:
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| "Go, son, back to the fucking bunk!"
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| The whole family lined up in a row:
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| “Fuck you!” they say!
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| Nightmares, got it, nightmares, fucking nightmares!
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| I went from grief to the store,
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| And there is a cop citizen,
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| He was rubbing, fucking, poking around, hanging out!
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| I want to take a bottle of vodka,
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| And he grabs me by the ass!
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| “Gotcha, grit, gotcha, fucking, gotcha!”
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| I want to take a bottle of vodka,
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| And he grabs me by the ass!
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| “Gotcha, grit, gotcha, damn it, gotcha!”
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| What a fool I was then!
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| Put on a stolen jacket
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| And shkars, I understand, and shkars, damn it, and shkars!
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| And here again in front of me
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| All night the sentinel looms
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| With a sawn-off shot, I understand, with a shotgun, damn it,
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| with cut!
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| And here again they lead to court,
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| And the judges shake their eggs:
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| “Three years you shine, fucking, three years!”
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| And the old fag, the prosecutor,
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| I broke my whole dick on the table!
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| A hint, they say, you will not see freedom!
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| And the old fag, the prosecutor,
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| I broke my whole dick on the table!
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| A hint, they say, you will not see freedom!
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| And here I am again in prison,
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| The sun doesn't shine for me anymore...
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| On the bunk, got it, on the bunk, damn it, on the bunk!
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| I'm sitting on the bunk, I want to eat!
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| There are no potatoes, dick masturbate!
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| Nightmares, got it, nightmares, fucking nightmares!
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| I'm sitting on the bunk, I want to eat!
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| There are no potatoes, dick masturbate!
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| Nightmares, got it, nightmares, fucking nightmares! |