Well, how are we with you, my friend,
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Now get out of the habit of wandering,
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Get used to homemade food
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Stop being stupid?
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What are our household names?
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After all, things are up to the throat, and the years are rushing by.
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And for what, we do not know ourselves,
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We go through life with backpacks.
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Chorus: We have no rest. |
Us the noise of trains
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Suggest stories for future dreams.
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Over the years, these paths grow into us
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And they bless us to go further.
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Not for mushrooms, not to the country,
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Not by car and not to the sea.
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We take with us a sister-luck,
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And it doesn’t matter to categories,
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What all routes share
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By kilometers and minutes.
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We, breaking out of comfort,
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Laughing, apparently, the devil beguiled.
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Chorus.
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Hello relatives, let's not go close,
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But there is experience, and we believe the word.
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We will not feast in a clean house,
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We measure friendship along a dangerous path.
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Without waiting for repentance
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We take into account the distances,
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Paths, clearings and dunes,
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And the day when there was a gloomy friend.
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Chorus: We have no rest. |
Us the noise of trains
|
Suggest stories for future dreams.
|
Tramps of the earth, six strings at hand,
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And it's not the first time for us to return home.
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And do not understand how it can
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All my life to beckon the road,
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But something is drilling, something is gnawing,
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And I will go off the threshold again.
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In the mountains we are all slightly poets,
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And silhouettes in the blue haze
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We will draw a map of life,
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And, therefore, we do not risk in vain! |