What a pain to sit in Vnukovo,
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Look through the glass, how wet everything is.
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And know that summer is walking somewhere,
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And the morning shines like a mother-of-pearl.
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Airfields in thunder,
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And here please, the vagaries of August.
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And the planes sit like birds.
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They tucked their wings, they fly to me.
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Chorus:
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And I'm so drawn home!
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So pulling home, pulling home so!
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And I'm empty from the summer and the sea,
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I want to go home to golden foliage!
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But the downpour is a wall.
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And I would like to go home, but the rain does not hear.
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A hundred thousand dwarfs are pounding on the roofs.
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A hundred thousand dwarfs are dancing on the roofs.
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Airfields are like dance floors.
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Around the movement, and the darkness of the people,
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A very ominous view of the weather.
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Summer is over, end of story.
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But I, as before, am captivated by hope.
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Chorus:
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And I'm so drawn home!
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So pulling home, pulling home so!
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And I'm empty from the summer and the sea,
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I want to go home to golden foliage!
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But the downpour is a wall.
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Airfields in thunder.
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The sky is closed, and I would be up to the house
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I look at the glass, how wet everything is.
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Summer is over, end of story.
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Chorus:
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And I'm so drawn home!
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So pulling home, pulling home so!
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And I'm empty from the summer and the sea,
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I want to go home to golden foliage!
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And I'm empty from the summer and the sea,
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I want to go home to golden foliage!
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But the downpour is a wall. |