| A crippled heart in kilohertz,
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| they poured pepper into it for me, in my knapsack,
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| I carry fragments of conscience, but I would go to Nastya,
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| one of Vasilisa, who is in a stream of passion,
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| gave happiness ... to me ...
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| All that is missing is a smile, someone's close, not feigned, familiar,
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| the plot of not a new topic burns every moment
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| when you yourself, the light is turned off, and next to you it hasn’t been and is not for so long,
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| Yes, and I don’t want to let them close to my fate,
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| whom he let in, they trampled the pedestal,
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| whom I let in, I can’t help but remember,
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| and give everything that you didn't take back,
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| I don't want anymore, I'm not looking, among the open gray masses,
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| the most curvaceous frame to fall in love like for the first time,
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| I don't want someone to wait and curse, so that someone would cry,
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| and suffered so feigningly, I was so tired, from this fuss of yours,
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| I'd rather go to Nastya, one of Putin's countries...
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| A crippled heart in kilohertz,
|
| they poured pepper into it for me, in my knapsack,
|
| I carry fragments of conscience, but I would go to Nastya,
|
| one of Vasilisa, who is in a stream of passion,
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| gave happiness ... to me ...
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| Played enough, I stopped trusting and believing in a miracle
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| so much anger, but where,
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| stopped falling in love like the first time,
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| why are you immediately on the mattress after hearing a couple of clear phrases???
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| I have nothing more to keep in myself, like everyone else,
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| I can't, I'd rather be on my own than believe in miracles,
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| when you're alone, you don't need quarantine,
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| and bother someone that you are invincible
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| so you need to give crazy words,
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| and after two or three days of living together, send them there...
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| I don't want someone to wait and curse, so that someone would cry,
|
| and suffered so feigningly, I was so tired, from this fuss of yours,
|
| I'd rather go to Nastya, one of Putin's countries...
|
| A crippled heart in kilohertz,
|
| they poured pepper into it for me, in my knapsack,
|
| I carry fragments of conscience, but I would go to Nastya,
|
| one of Vasilisa, who is in a stream of passion,
|
| gave happiness ... to me ... |