| I would like to know the date when everything will pass and end
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| When the stars fall and the sky in the window breaks into pieces
|
| I would like to understand, like a book, how much time we were given
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| To write down this day in a diary and not stay pregnant
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| But God don't pick up, bitch, God don't pick up
|
| And while I continue to the devil, and imitate him
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| I give birth to my long tracks at night like a child
|
| No, I'm not complaining at all, just answer, please answer
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| I would like to see a film of many expressions
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| When the sea and mountains embrace and move towards them
|
| I would like to hear a podcast on how everyone finally became equal
|
| And for the last seven minutes they understood the most important thing, the main thing
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| That God don't pick up, bitch, God don't pick up
|
| And while I continue to the devil, and imitate him
|
| I give birth to my long tracks at night like a child
|
| No, I'm not complaining at all, just answer, please answer
|
| I'd like to feel like there's nothing left
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| How easy it is for each and everyone and the Sun to part with the Earth
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| How height and depth cease to matter
|
| And he will never read your sincere messages
|
| 'Cause God don't pick up, bitch, God don't pick up
|
| And while I continue to the devil, and imitate him
|
| I give birth to my long tracks at night like a child
|
| No, I'm not complaining at all, just answer, please answer
|
| If possible, something like this:
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| Sash, let everything be as you used to for now...
|
| Insta-females, Insta-females, child-free and yazhem-moms
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| DJs and violinists, nannies and executioners
|
| Pi ## obols and wordless, just people and famous people
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| Managers and their bosses - those who sailed and who are mooring
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| Flying and downed pilots, their victims and hijackers
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| Politicians with red buttons, puffy butt babies
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| Watermelons and peas, loved and abandoned
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| Priests and sinners, protest and FSB's
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| Long long life
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| Between "Hi!" |
| and “Bye…”
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| Black greasy smoke from pipes
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| And white clouds
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| God don't pick up, bitch, God don't pick up
|
| And while I continue to the devil, and imitate him
|
| I give birth to my long tracks at night like a child
|
| No, I'm not complaining at all
|
| Just answer
|
| Please answer
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| Black cross in the sky
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| Ashes of troubles in the hair
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| "Yes!" |
| and "No!" |
| on the scales
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| Days end on the clock
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| Did you like the lyrics?
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| Write in the comments!
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