| He will leave a thin trace in the hemispheres of the brain
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| I draw a map of the room with my fingers on lime
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| The one-eyed image is looking for a bus in the field
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| Until he arrives, I stir the cartridges in the mud
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| The downpour will flood the roads, it will drag the wheels
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| You thought it was a complicated world, but it's more complicated than simple
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| The voice is stronger than the shot, I will run so fast
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| Having caught up with the lonely bus, I will become its prize
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| On batteries all around, I run inside
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| Birds fly south, the forest resembles cigarette butts
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| I'm sleeved through the windows, the conductor is playing for time
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| Puts lipstick on lips pale as a ghost
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| I look with one eye at points of rapid movements
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| I'm not looking for inspiration, I need a wider road
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| Get a dog, she will give feelings
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| Place it in your heart and it's not empty anymore
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| Meanwhile, the stars began to flash in the sky
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| I kept looking out the window and watching incest
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| Make recordings from the spot, hear the music of childhood
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| Take notes in the margins of a special play book
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| Scars on the skin, let the lines lie down
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| Today there is freedom, make a hundred copies
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| I do not flog for my blood, I need pasta with juice
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| The bus drove far, love the sea sand
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| I deleted my account and my hitchhiking around the world
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| This shit comes out, close yourself in the apartment
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| Put up fences, protect your resources
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| I remain myself, spoil my pluses
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| One is my rap, two is my name is No Mo
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| You think I'm immortal, put a bullet in my forehead
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| The violins of the soul sound in me, I recorded the melody
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| I need a sheet and a pencil, keep the podium
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| Burnt houses become food for the soil
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| Roadsides and pigeons are tired of living for the mail
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| Mothers ask for money, people are unfair
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| They said they abolished slavery, but I don't think so
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| We can take hundreds of octaves, inseminate all women
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| The revolution in me is the wet dreams of a teenager
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| The bus creaks, reminding me of willpower
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| I was in love with many people, but they deceived
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| Strikethrough lines, crane cries
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| After the murder, my hero does not wipe his hands
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| He is constantly moving, cannot catch his breath,
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| But you can be sure he won't leave a chance
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| Cloudy topic, he is a defector of meanings
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| The bus breaks the edge and flies off the pier
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| He sees panic as people pull out piercings
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| Lying at the bottom, where it is quiet, the hero looked at the sun
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| You hear steps, wheels are knocking
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| I want to reach for the stars. |