I heard the end of the world will come tomorrow morning,
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And I still haven't bought a ticket for the bus of the desired route
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It's a pity you can't call a taxi to paradise, and you won't catch a ride
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By the way, to give up your place to someone, what an act!
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And how would you spend the last hours of the last day?
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Would you fall into a stupor, or would you start destroying everything and breaking dishes?
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Or would you try to have time to say something that you didn’t say to someone?
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Or, in the end, would you decide to stir up those muddies?
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You can still lock yourself at home and not pick up the phone
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You can press the pedal to the floor and become *rupa until the end of the day
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You can swear from the roof of the house or preach through a mouthpiece
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You can find and take revenge on the face control of a fashion club
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You can steal a diamond ring for your beloved, and a fur coat for your mother
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You can give everything to a close friend
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Or to a random stranger, but it all seems so stupid...
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What if the end of the world comes tomorrow morning?
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I would probably get up at seven or eight o'clock
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I would cook the most delicious omelette and the most delicious coffee
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Perhaps it would hang a little, looking somewhere at the sky
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Perhaps I would find answers to my questions
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Wouldn't wake her up for a while
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Perhaps I would finally stop measuring this life with something
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There would be missing links in this chain of events
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There would be enough time for this morning, there would be enough money
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I would sit on the edge of the bed, she would wake up suddenly
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Our youth fell on a very strange time, friend
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And I can hardly find anything more sensible to tell you...
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Except: Good morning... |