Friends told me what you did at night, your white swan, affectionate
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flower.
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There was no happiness left for me in this world, I looked into her eyes, and she laughed.
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Chorus:
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And, probably, I had a knife in my pocket in vain,
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And, probably, in vain hurt me in the heart.
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And, probably, I had a knife in my pocket in vain,
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And, probably, in vain hurt me in the heart.
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I begged you: "Don't play with words", there was no one left between us.
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Your white swan flies over you, I stood in front of you, clenching my fists.
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Chorus:
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And, probably, I had a knife in my pocket in vain,
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And, probably, in vain hurt me in the heart.
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And, probably, I had a knife in my pocket in vain,
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, I had a knife in my pocket in vain ...
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What have you, dear friends, done with love? |
The knife in my pocket cuts my fingers
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hurt.
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The white swan in the sky is drawn with chalk, I closed my eyes and flew up to him.
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Chorus:
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And, probably, I had a knife in my pocket in vain,
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And, probably, in vain hurt me in the heart.
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And, probably, I had a knife in my pocket in vain,
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And, probably, in vain hurt me in the heart.
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, in vain ...
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And, probably, I had a knife in my pocket in vain ... |