| Uncle, in my opinion, there is no music at all
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| Here. |
| Music is everywhere
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| In the ears, in the soul, the letters also carry clichés.
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| Once upon a time we found our lyrics in ganja.
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| Bracho, old man, kill, plebeian, out the door.
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| I bet what I had time - erased.
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| Still, there is one more cartridge in the clip.
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| Just so it doesn't hurt anymore.
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| Pascal wanted to go to Africa, Herman wanted to go to Israel,
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| And I changed the style a long time ago, deleted the file.
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| Time beat in every way, scolded like.
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| Smokey spat melodies in his face.
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| I see a guy in a checkered suit, he whispers something in her ear,
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| My dream, it was something.
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| I gave it to him on a grand scale at the meeting, the whole elevator chastised her,
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| There are many hearts in it. |
| In general, what is it about
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| My childhood, then I'm forever
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| I got into history, especially in the evening.
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| Everyone said that we should be whipped. |
| Loved food with ketchup.
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| Planted liver, smoky lungs, list
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| Bad habits, parents are overwhelmed, and what is Shpana to me.
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| I did not give pearls to heifers,
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| Did not leave a hundred messages on the answering machine.
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| I just smoked and made rings.
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| Here they go
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| Here they come
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| Here they'll find
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| Here, they will understand what we are talking about. |