| Thank you friends thank you
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| Enough, not worth it, not worth applause
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| Not worth it, friends
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| Today for you…
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| And I'll cross my fingers behind my back
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| Fall asleep as a boy, that hour was guessing then
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| Will I wake up happy?
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| And how often, just as unimaginably
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| I felt the sky press down
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| And will I have enough strength?
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| But to endure one that crushes the ceiling
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| I couldn't hit the muscles and the fibers are untwisted
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| Even though I called for help, only the vomit answered me
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| From sent calls
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| So you shut your mouth
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| Your fingers are beautiful
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| They are made to play the piano
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| To a full hall
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| Your fingers are beautiful
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| Tempt, but who knew
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| And I'm so sorry that their fate broke everything
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| And for now enjoying without noticing the viewer
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| She feeds the darkness and induces parasites in it
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| You gnaw yourself from the inside, gnaw, at least gnaw it all,
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| But since she is in such grief, she is destined to be a composer
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| To suffer for everyone
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| Buttons get dirty
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| Fell on her fingers and broke, slamming the lid
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| It remains to break the laws of optics
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| See the world through a water bottle and vodka,
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| But what an artist, such a panopticon
 | 
| Buttons get dirty
 | 
| Fell on her fingers and broke, slamming the lid
 | 
| It remains to break the laws of optics
 | 
| See the world through a water bottle and vodka,
 | 
| But what an artist, such a panopticon
 | 
| People jumped up from the chair
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| The pianist smears, the whole orchestra goes astray behind him
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| She writhes with them (pum-pum-pum-pum)
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| And the audience rejoices (pum-pum-pum-pum)
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| And something unintelligible flies from her lips
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| And then everyone has fun
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| Your orchestra is disgusting
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| But break it, and everyone will choke
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| “You need to bring her to the reward, like the seeds of a grape
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| Fingers crunch, my dears, my God, how is the game for you ”
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| And applause flows
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| Here is true greatness
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| But long at the moment
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| She will pay for this moment, guess what
 | 
| And for each of your masterpieces for people
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| She breaks her finger
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| And another gray strand became
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| There were once ten of them, and now there are five left,
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| But she doesn't mind breaking everything
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| How amazing, oblivion does not threaten
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| Oh, what a joy it is to be a composer!
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| (What happiness!)
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| Buttons get dirty (You can't even imagine, friends!)
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| She fell on her fingers and broke it, slamming the lid (What happiness! Incredible, friends!
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| It remains to violate the laws of optics (You can’t even imagine!)
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| To see the world through a water bottle and vodka (Friends, you just can't imagine!)
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| But what kind of artist, such a panopticon (Friends explode in the chest, do you feel it?)
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| Buttons get dirty
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| I fell on my fingers and broke it, slamming the lid (Thank you! Do you feel it?
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| Thanks!)
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| It remains to break the laws of optics (This is love! Don't, it's not worth the flowers!
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| Do you feel it?  | 
| Not worth it!  | 
| Thanks!)
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| To see the world through water and vodka (Thank you!)
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| But what an artist, such a panopticon |