Why do you count the minutes,
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Is your time too narrow?
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Why are you looking out the window,
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Do you have a horse that you lost?
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Or just walk freely
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Do you have a loved one?
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Or just run away from you
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Do you live a youthful life?
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I can't sleep all night,
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Or because the spring is flowing?
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Or because the birds are moaning?
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Or because youth is over?
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I can't sleep all night.
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I can't sleep all night.
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Or because the roads call forwards?
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Or because the winds are blowing?
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Or because the birds are moaning?
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Or because youth is over?
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I can't sleep all night.
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I can't sleep all night.
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I can't sleep all night.
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No matter how much I look at it, I don't feel it
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To the birches of the Volga.
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Let's face it - most companies don't pay attention when you tell them something to do
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Out to the shores of the Volga.
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I love you, brothers and sisters,
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I love it as much as I respect it.
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So dedicated to you
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I sing my heart songs.
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I go to the sun, to the sky,
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I am on my way to dawn.
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From the flowers to the valleys,
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I get lost in the grass.
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If away from you, away
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My ways if taken away.
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I will hear the sound of birch
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Immortal songs of the native land.
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Ugh, that's not to say,
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No, that's not a cry,
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No, not at all.
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Don't ask about my situation,
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Circumstances are not questionable.
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Don't ask about my situation,
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Circumstances are not questionable.
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If I wake up in the morning and open the window,
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That's the way birds are,
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To the bird that flies.
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I don't care who cares?
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I have no one to advise.
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I don't care who cares?
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I have no one to advise.
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The bottom of the window is a fragrant flower,
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I counted not eight,
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I counted not eight.
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I'm not proud of that,
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The finger is not even.
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I'm not proud of that,
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The finger is not even.
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My wheat behind the house,
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That's the decent thing to do, and it should end there.
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Let's go out and beat.
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My grave abroad
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My Lord, do not let it burn.
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My grave abroad
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My Lord, do not let it burn.
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I planted flowers behind the house,
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That's the decent thing to do, and it should end there.
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Don't just cut it.
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Separate grief is not grief,
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Let there be no sorrow in the land.
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Separate grief is not grief,
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Let there be no sorrow in the land. |