The photographer took a portrait, built a perspective,
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I changed my lenses, looked for unusual light.
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The taxi driver rushed to the park - there are no customers on the street,
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The tape was torn in the cassette, there was snow and steam outside the windows.
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In your bottomless eyes there is wisdom and a spark of childhood,
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In your salty tears there is everything that the heart said.
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In your bottomless eyes, a hundred thousand different shades,
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In your golden words there is a quiet sadness and a holiday.
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The violinist pulled the string, rosined his bow,
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He performed love on the violin, then went to the window.
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The banker was trying on a jacket, and in his thoughts he was counting banknotes,
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The violinist annoyed him, especially on Saturdays.
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In your bottomless eyes there is wisdom and a spark of childhood,
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In your salty tears there is everything that the heart said.
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In your bottomless eyes, a hundred thousand different shades,
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In your golden words there is a quiet sadness and a holiday.
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The artist painted a landscape, for a friend, not for sale.
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He was attracted by courage and vernissage exhibitions.
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In your bottomless eyes there is wisdom and a spark of childhood,
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In your salty tears there is everything that the heart said.
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In your bottomless eyes, a hundred thousand different shades,
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In your golden words there is a quiet sadness and a holiday. |