New colleagues called it TV-twist
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Because he had movies in his head and he had twisted stories
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Dry and wet
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That he made his own glasses of wax, a jar, and a thread
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That's how he saved up for a vacation with his grandfather, who is sick
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Which does not come off the window sill at all because it is constantly from windows
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For four years he has been trying to go outside to get milk through the window
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Mad world, mad world, but Grandpa has made progress
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He went down and, through the ski goggles, he clicked the dead mouse on Grandma's ankle
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And grandma turned into highways and in Poland it started ...
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And grandfather found a job in the toll gate, and they were always together
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Still asking if they can see and what? - and nothing
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It was no secret that many did not understand him
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Like I am closing stadiums to all fans at once
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He has always had his world, his cinema with Kusturica
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He lived in an imaginary sandbox
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At night, when he was returning like this and he had Chinese reconnaissance in front of his eyes
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He often talked to the city as if they had known each other for years
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The track hissed, the lamp squeaked, the flower rustled
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Like a freak, the first tram roared above him like a bird
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A TIR flew high, it was knocked out of the cobblestones, this track broke out in time and with a rush
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he shouted like this:
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«Shake it shake it baby, fly far away»
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Trzebnicka laughed: "Beautiful bump"
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"Excellent bang" added the little streets as if cheering her from the stands
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"We are making a better Woogie-Boogie" cried the rails from the embankment
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"Ah there - those were sanitary pads as easy as a container of blotting paper!" - roared Pomorska,
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city champion correcting the asphalt creased suit
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It is a night competition of the type: TIR throws through the track
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The fight for the king, the title is the title, and here the cockpit holds are what counts
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Self-massaging streets at night mischief at the top
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And with the buildings they sing their song:
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Legalize green in my city
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Believe me, too much chemistry in us and not enough nature
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More and more often take your pens in your hands and ...
|
Legalize green in my city
|
Believe me, too much chemistry in us and not enough nature
|
More and more often take your pens in your hands and ...
|
Legalize green in my city
|
Believe me, too much chemistry in us and not enough nature
|
More and more often take your pens in your hands and ...
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Then he hummed strangely painted
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Block scratching by trees:
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They are playing here and I feel sick
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When I see these motley colors, purulent pores on me
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Let somebody help, because we look like creatures out of this world
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Do something- and you're sitting on the couch
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I'm barely gasping, everything itches until I'm scratchy
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I have rashes and blatant blemishes to all of you
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What I look like should depend first of all
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Mercy - my walls reflect your personalities
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This is how you sleep when you go to bed
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Mercy - I'm just a regular block
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I want normality, like you simple people in me
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I would like to be green, I am the color of fresh leaves
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Not a glaring erythema on the body, as if styled by color blinders
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I want more nature around - get up and start renovating
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Caricatures of architecture - to plant, paint, legalize greenery
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Let people dance, barefoot, together on the arteries by the light of the lanterns
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Let the leaves climb the backbone of balconies as they fly into the facades of houses
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Let the branches of trees form the ceilings of streets, parks, and platforms
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Let your thoughts turn green as in May acacia and maple leaves
|
Legalize green in my city
|
Believe me, too much chemistry in us and not enough nature
|
More and more often take your pens in your hands and ...
|
Legalize green in my city
|
Believe me, too much chemistry in us and not enough nature
|
More and more often take your pens in your hands and ...
|
Legalize green in my city
|
Believe me, too much chemistry in us and not enough nature
|
More and more often take your pens in your hands and ... |