| Verse 1:
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| Look up at the ceiling!
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| In the silence of the four corners.
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| Fucking concrete box.
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| Shameless block, shameless coffin.
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| Here I am again launching thoughts into the void.
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| It remains to either tear the rope, or stand on a chair.
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| In puffs of smoke, 2pac blue, the plague is a shame.
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| I hear a voice from the outside, "You have a son's trumpet."
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| How much more? |
| — The golden question.
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| How much more scum you will be, the reason for mother's tears.
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| Time does not wait, the year runs after the year.
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| There is a cross on your neck, but you live like hell!
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| So where are we going, where are we anchoring?
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| Where is something shining or on bookmarks on salt?
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| Where are you loved? |
| Or where they insert hastily?
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| Cooler then where? |
| Choose? |
| The minutes go by so fast!
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| Chorus:
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| It's time to start over.
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| Let luck not meet us.
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| I forgot. |
| And it doesn't get wet while standing at the pier.
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| Full full offended for sadness.
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| (Do you hear? Let's get started)
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| It's time to start over.
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| Let luck not meet us.
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| I forgot. |
| And it doesn't get wet while standing at the pier.
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| Anyway, it's time for us to start, here, all over again.
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| Verse 2:
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| Quite a few things have already happened here.
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| We are all one about the same — a stock of sinigals.
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| The dead dragon sits and asks to fuck.
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| We are all heroes here, but after a glass.
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| The soul has forgotten Christ.
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| Half of me has returned from the valley of Philip.
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| I flipped through the half of the calendar on the blue melon.
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| Giving a plague dumb mare two leaves for love.
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| Pockmarked stripes of the screen… drip-drip… dripping from the faucet.
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| Everything in life is simple, it's not true.
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| My soul becomes disgusting with age.
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| My mother's gray hair is tormenting my soul.
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| And I have nothing to catch here, on the contrary, only to lose.
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| Self-deception of this life by years.
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| It's time to leave things in the wilds, in the ranks, sluts (come on).
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| Are there any plans for youth? |
| And how many of her brothers were left there?
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| Chorus:
|
| It's time to start over.
|
| Let luck not meet us.
|
| I forgot. |
| And it doesn't get wet while standing at the pier.
|
| Full full offended for sadness.
|
| (Do you hear? Let's get started)
|
| It's time to start over.
|
| Let luck not meet us.
|
| I forgot. |
| And it doesn't get wet while standing at the pier.
|
| Anyway, it's time for us to start, here, all over again. |