Without the charm of an extra reason
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I am in the labyrinths of the night city
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Where the lights bloom in the streets
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And the lanterns squint indifferently
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And everyone bends over questions
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And slushy heart under the wheels
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rare cars
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Along the alleys of the night city
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The wind and loneliness are walking
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In apartments they hide themselves from the cold
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Those who are without a name and without a patronymic
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Minibuses late unnamed
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They take someone to bed drunk
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strange dreams
|
And tomorrow will be morning
|
And in the morning the sun will rise
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And the sun even from a place to work fervently
|
Spring border on the left will hit summer on the right
|
Behind the left will spin autumn after autumn winter,
|
And we will no longer be, we will turn into the earth
|
Let's break through with springs and grow grass
|
What was interesting and not to become crowded
|
Under this new sun and new foliage
|
We affirm the freedom of the individual
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Not noticing her on the street, where fists rage around the corner
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Breaking faces and selfishness
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And in this stone indifference
|
Brick-woven inevitability
|
We assure each other of the need
|
We dissolve each other in tenderness
|
strange dreams
|
And in this stone indifference
|
Brick-woven inevitability
|
We slide shortly on the outside
|
And we trust our haste
|
And we assure each other of the need
|
And we dissolve each other in tenderness
|
strange dreams
|
And tomorrow will be morning
|
And in the morning the sun will rise
|
And the sun even from a place to work fervently
|
Spring border on the left will hit summer on the right
|
Behind the left will spin autumn after autumn winter,
|
And we will no longer be, we will turn into the earth
|
Let's break through with springs and grow grass
|
What was interesting and not to become crowded
|
Under this new sun and new foliage |