| In London, on the streets, I was looking for Kiev sadness somewhere.
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| In London, on the streets, it seemed that I would return to you again
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| Where our floors are. |
| I'll go back to where all the neighbors sleep at night.
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| I'll go back to where our floors are. |
| I will return there.
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| Chorus:
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| I write on London windows, weather forecasters believe that I am not sleeping.
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| My predictions don't match.
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| On London glass, I randomly wrote songs at random,
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| But they are not understood.
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| Black tea with milk reminded me of what you said.
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| With a dash, in Kiev, I was looking for a city station somewhere.
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| I watch our trains go by. |
| Again I want to sing about what is impossible.
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| Again I watch how our trains go, again I want to.
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| Chorus:
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| I write on London windows, weather forecasters believe that I am not sleeping.
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| My predictions don't match.
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| On London glass, I randomly wrote songs at random,
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| But they are not understood.
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| Losing.
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| I write on London windows, weather forecasters believe that I am not sleeping.
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| My predictions don't match.
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| On London glass, I randomly wrote songs at random,
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| But they are not understood.
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| In London, weather forecasters believe.
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| My predictions don't match.
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| On London glass, I randomly wrote songs at random,
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| But they are not understood. |