Goal like a falcon - in front of the city
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With the wind on a par - under the starry canopy
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We plot intrigues - for those who are dear to us
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We go to visit out of spite - we smile at the enemies
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Lucky less ... well ... good - more
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Enviable... and what else is left for the righteous?
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We see gold only in the light of the sun
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And our nose is farther than we stick out the window - we catch a cold,
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And the stone is rolling... The earth is spinning
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Friends are lost - they are taken by the street...
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Crazy street - valiant foolishness
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Wolf grins are molded - from children's smiles
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I know ... how it hurts the heart
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The doors are closed - and there is nothing to hope for
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Trouble ... lymph nodes are sharpened for experiments
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What's next? |
Smoke, soot and a sea of falsehood...
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Stomping in the corridors, shouting: "Fool, bitch!" ...
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Forgive me, but I couldn't make a sound then
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I was deep ... not exactly in myself
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Drifted in lies - it will be more correct ...
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And I would be glad to leave a handful of memories of memory,
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And dispel the images - over an open flame,
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But I lost my dream - in the abyss of time
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I'm banging my head against the wall, screaming... but I'm still looking for her...
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Every God's day, boiled in daily viscosity,
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In short-term fun, in the arms of sadness,
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Be like a deceit of your own happiness.
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Times of bad weather change grief.
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A prayer service, a crust of black, fifty, and again into battle.
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My God, my faith, are you with me?
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And not to forget the way home to a friend,
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I, as my father taught, will beat the fate of the bastard in the face,
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And how many fingers will be enough for us to count the tears,
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To later turn them into poetry and prose.
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The memory of childhood is like a frozen rose,
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I will warm up at night.
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Light, lamp, photo, mug of tea.
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I miss sometimes when everyone around is having fun,
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Oh, right now, these, with a guitar, songs.
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Smoky at night, floors at the entrance.
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Huddling was closely, but all together.
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Polished noses to a shine, iron dogs,
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Hopes will not be buried in the soul of a dreamer,
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After all, if there are desires, there will be aspirations,
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Snow-covered wreaths will thaw in the spring, as before. |