| When I get old like Santa Claus,
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| Who brought gifts to gray hares.
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| I will sit in the bureau, take a pen, and sketch out my memoirs,
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| I'll turn off the lamp, light a candle, and the sheet will turn black.
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| I will remember everything that happened, how I loved him to the grave,
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| And then I got tired of love. |
| It was and it's gone.
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| I will remember everything that happened, how I loved him to the grave,
|
| And then I got tired of love. |
| It was and it's gone, it's gone.
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| When I become old, like Dr. Aibolit,
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| Who heals a hiccup, what hurts someone.
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| Maybe then I'll start to hunt with medicinal herbs,
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| I will go out to rest, treat people, and remember at my leisure.
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| I will remember everything that happened, how I loved him to the grave,
|
| And then I got tired of love. |
| It was and it's gone.
|
| I will remember everything that happened, how I loved him to the grave,
|
| And then I got tired of love. |
| It was and it's gone, it's gone.
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| When I become old, like grandfather Mazay,
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| Who drove the gray hare from hell to heaven,
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| I'll dry the oar, brush away a tear, good night, my hares!
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| You, my furry friends, will benefit from my story.
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| I will remember everything that happened, how I loved him to the grave,
|
| And then I got tired of love. |
| It was and it's gone.
|
| I will remember everything that happened, how I loved him to the grave,
|
| And then I got tired of love. |
| It was and it's gone, it's gone.
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| When I get old...
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| When I get old...
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| When I get old...
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| When… |