| Sunset then sunrise
|
| week month year
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| The cue ball is in the player
|
| The battery is not dead
|
| From west to east
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| releasing a petal
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| Past the roar of planes and the creak of trains,
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| Are you ready for stories from my boys?
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| The silence of the yards in the distance, the noise of the roads in the background
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| Sand is pouring in the flasks of old clocks
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| Silent in the chair for three hours
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| Bitch, wicked variety
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| It's time for new heights
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| The horizon is even closer
|
| If you don't see, get up on your toes
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| Arrows in unison with this beat
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| Stretch like a python
|
| And I leave things for later
|
| And the leaves so quietly fly from the trees
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| Autumn hung over the city with a shadow
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| Warm days of bright moments
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| Smoke under the ceiling plunges into oblivion
|
| I am crumpled in a square like a torn leaf
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| Well, what are you, brother, hovering gloomily
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| Enough so you can sleep for the rest of your life
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| I lace up my sneakers and go downstairs
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| A cold wind blows from the lake
|
| The boys are beacons I will reach the third
|
| If they smoke, we'll inflate the couplet
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| Will it still be when we meet
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| Here and now touches us
|
| Don't look too far, it's dangerous
|
| The past in sepia faded colors
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| Took napas tear off masks
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| I don't remember Wednesday or Tuesday
|
| Parachute or water carrier
|
| I just live today I'm free
|
| I do not know the notes, but I rummage for the muzlo
|
| Autumn is like a dream time sand text on a leaf
|
| Would press stop or rewind
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| Dawn flip sunset bong tobacco cones
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| Rap scene crowd stimulus new verses
|
| After the wall stencil rolled in three colors
|
| I remember this and other fragments of memory
|
| I did not delete, but decided to leave them. I was not in the future, I did not live outgoing
|
| I am here and now I am real
|
| Not an artist, but I still draw like I used to
|
| Not a poet, but while I breathe I rhyme
|
| And this is my life, moms, understand grief from the mind
|
| On the court kumar in the paint sleeve fucking
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| And this is far from all of me. Music in the ears in autumn, spring.
|
| And there is no more dust in the city
|
| Crystal dust on leaves
|
| In a warm apartment
|
| Only shhh in good with mary
|
| I believe in it all the energy of the universe,
|
| And in the area time destroys buildings
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| In the area, time grows trees
|
| Time is like a horse running and running
|
| It's good that we are alive and it's bad that someone is not alive
|
| I don't care how much I have left
|
| I realized that age is a number, not old age
|
| Got a lot of new friends
|
| I'll say hello ten times before I get home,
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| But the brother of them is one of a hundred
|
| After all, anyway, time puts everything in its place
|
| A lot of chick and a lot of tus
|
| We don't teach anyone, but we have fucking taste
|
| I know there is no end to development
|
| And while you are f*cking, we are getting hot
|
| Time is like a horse running and running
|
| Someone has wool, and someone has shine and chic
|
| And catching the truth from a puddle of lies
|
| I'll show what I'm capable of while I'm alive
|
| Time is like a horse running and running
|
| Someone has wool, and someone has shine and chic
|
| And catching the truth from a puddle of lies
|
| I'll show what I'm capable of while I'm alive |