There is a veil above us, plus clouds for days and the same height in the sky from the window
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The fuse burns inside as long as there is a supply, until all our trains have left
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Where there is darkness. |
Give me fire first, is this emptiness of the road made of glass?
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It seemed cool, it turned out to be just cloudy, you just mixed up the ones you needed
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routes
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These words don't lie even on a hungover morning, I don't know who's working here,
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but pump these magnifiers
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And how in a circle, will I do cool again? |
Fierce frosts will pass and everything will be with them
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muddied
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Fuck those round ones - they only smear how many boys they closed,
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fuck knows how much
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I know it doesn't hurt, remember the passwords, don't regret it, just dipped your head
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Sirens howl again on the roofs of white cars, white powder in your pocket - and you
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passenger
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This is the real life of this big Moscow, on the last floor the power of height
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Makes sense, just sets of numbers, determine thoughts and decide who is out here
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And there is not always a choice - someone completed the program, try to exit the game,
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if i get stuck
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I'll be somewhere nearby, a little closer than you think, it's not about bitches and guns,
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but about the souls in these puddles
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It crushes your brains - if you don't like it, don't listen, in the evenings, hardly anyone's lights
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put out
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I rise higher, higher than these roofs, we write something again and this is from the heart
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We value this, and you hurry up with us to fly higher each time
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I rise higher, higher than these roofs, we write something again and this is from the heart
|
We value this, and you hurry up with us to fly higher each time
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Soared over Moscow, on the basin sunk the pedal into the floor and climate control to the cold
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I'm all sweaty, I ate half of my tongue, I need to pour a couple of shots, fucking fooling
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Tuesday, traffic jams, hot as hell, what other fucking club parties?
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Brother, I still went out in a hurry to get 100 grams, on Textiles and ended up
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on Dubrovka
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And so I climbed in the bowels of the city of roads, took the autograph of the teaching staff-nickname, trash can, epta
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He wrote in Xiva, kept his blue ear sharp and these fiery lines were born
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Purely from the bottom of my heart, I heard that someone decided that we often chase filks in pursuit
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we sin
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But there’s a golyak in my pocket, but it’s a thrill to sin, I read it in the micro, summing up the day
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Having gutted the huckster morally for yesterday's buzz, knocked him out of the spiral onto the tracks, well,
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anything happens there
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From Maryino to the Central Administrative District, raise the sound on the speakers and everything is nishtyak
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I rise higher, higher than these roofs, we write something again and this is from the heart
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We value this, and you hurry up with us to fly higher each time
|
I rise higher, higher than these roofs, we write something again and this is from the heart
|
We value this, and you hurry up with us to fly higher each time
|
I rise higher, higher than these roofs, we write something again and this is from the heart
|
We value this, and you hurry up with us to fly higher each time
|
I rise higher, higher than these roofs, we write something again and this is from the heart
|
We value this, and you hurry up with us to fly higher each time |