| My first call to you, and to you the last one, the other day I fully learned the significance
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| heritage,
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| Invisible longing and such words are enough to describe holy love,
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| what comes from a mother's heart.
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| At the dawn of dreaming round dances with a blade, he let go of the fan from his heart, got out without
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| her
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| A mediocrity, in the eyes of the neighbors, what a shame, what a banner lowered the bins and
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| is that a banner?
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| Mom baptizes at the door, warm palms, so many strangers on the way,
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| she cannot find a synonym,
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| She is waiting for a call, the silhouette in the window is beloved, unique, so vulnerable,
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| no matter how strong we are.
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| Everyone remembers from childhood where, the native walls of Khrushchev, forgive me, mom,
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| your tears and mockery of people.
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| Your image in my heart, in my soul care flows, walking among the golden fields,
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| meet the new sun.
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| Chorus:
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| Mom, where does time go and you are alone, others will not replace,
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| Mom, don't be sad, dear, it's not me, it's fate.
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| where time goes and you are alone, others will not replace,
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| Mom, don't be sad, dear, it's not me, it's fate.
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| Like fresh air from the fields, which cannot be measured, the news in a letter is worn out
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| lies on the threshold at the door,
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| She sincerely believes in her problem child, in a line blacker than black,
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| the first one will be there.
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| I finally waited for the formation of personality, because all that I could bring was not a table
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| problematic,
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| Plus, a bad head will not give rest to the legs, and to be honest, I'm so in love
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| didn't cost.
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| This is important, and with age it becomes clear who was my sun warming the day
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| rainy,
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| I would carve those who can swear at their mother, and the values of the moment,
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| as if there is not enough air in the chest.
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| Like white birch trees under the summer sun await rest, like pine forests,
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| that treat me with the smell of pine needles,
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| Native sides, where the mother's heart beats, leads the son over the threshold and waits,
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| when he returns.
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| Chorus:
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| Mom, where does time go and you are alone, others will not replace,
|
| Mom, don't be sad, dear, it's not me, it's fate.
|
| Mom, where does time go and you are alone, others will not replace,
|
| Mom, don't be sad, dear, it's not me, it's fate. |