Asleep my room
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Gray map on an old wall
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The light of these windows is not for me today
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Draws the east through the gutter
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Flower stems will fall on a leaf
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A few letters in black pen:
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"I don't love" - and a seal in silver
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Leave all the advice that leads me to trouble
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Behind me is a detachment of people - I will not give out secrets where
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There are no revolutions in us, no claims to triumph
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Try to guess in which hand it sits out of two
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The very spirit of the streets, where the weak are not alone
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The very spirit of the streets where the wounds cannot be found
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Everything is hidden for years, locked up
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Gardens don't talk and play rock with us
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Curtains will hug the shoulders of the hall, those who survived and could - those kings
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The boat floats in the depths of the station, I gather family advice
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The doctor will hit the keys with his eyes, the young student will overturn the rum
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Our pebbles hit the skeet, white stripes, red rhombus
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Smoky London does not sleep - a dream, a working shovel strikes a spark
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New Tuesday, like poverty, it's true, it will knock out someone's chair
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And hang - and near the ceiling, on the edges of a gray coat
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The son of some regiment, (no one), no one, (no one)
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But I don't care, I'm a lumpen, and my mother won't recognize
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She loves me so much - I am the fruit of her love,
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But I don't care, I'm a lumpen: I read the menu on the right
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And all my habits are hardly tolerated by the world
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I'm lumpen, hey! |
I'm lumpen, hey!
|
I'm lumpen, hey! |
I am the fruit of her love
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I'm lumpen, hey! |
I'm lumpen, hey!
|
I'm lumpen, hey! |
The world hardly tolerates me
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I'm broken like a pot (pot, pot)
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And I will remain alone, like a Prince (Prince, Prince)
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After all, this is a show of mast go he (go he, go he)
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Your queen demands dirt
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Yes, and you are all so expensive (goy, goy)
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But I put on more expensive
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I'm wearing chains and hoods, I'm like Konstantin Borovoy
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That after talking with me you are unlikely to continue your path
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I am a lumpen, scary like Putin
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And fuck all my groupies, all your people
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This is my strict path - Anubis, but don't worry
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After all, we will not meet, none of you is a corpse
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As long as
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You trample on for freedom so much, but I don't believe you
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You are a laptop fighter, your thoughts are a pattern
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A barrier separates us here, I dug a quarry for myself
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For you first, and tomorrow I will only be in the forest belt
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And I'm high as long as there's a MacGuffin, a crowd of hands
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I fuck the whole industry like cancer - for fun
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They don't notice me, and I'm a sad Harlequin
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And it's wonderful, because I'm just bush flowers
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I'll shit myself in public - the crowd will laugh
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And isn't that what I wanted, isn't it?
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Jean-Luc Godard - yes, they change years
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Ask yourself who I am. |
Stupid asshole? |
Guessed!
|
But I don't care, I'm a lumpen, and my mother won't recognize
|
She loves me so much - I am the fruit of her love,
|
But I don't care, I'm a lumpen: I read the menu on the right
|
And all my habits are hardly tolerated by the world,
|
But I don't care, I'm a lumpen, and my mother won't recognize
|
She loves me so much - I am the fruit of her love,
|
But I don't care, I'm a lumpen: I read the menu on the right
|
And all my habits are hardly tolerated by the world
|
I'm lumpen, hey! |
I'm lumpen, hey!
|
I'm lumpen, hey! |
I am the fruit of her love
|
I'm lumpen, hey! |
I'm lumpen, hey!
|
I'm lumpen, hey! |
The world hardly tolerates me |