First Verse: YarmaK
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Sometimes the day doesn’t work out, I drove in backwards myself.
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In a brand new Kruzak, now disassembly and rams.
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This is how the day started. |
10-30 hours.
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I'm late everywhere already. |
What is this to me, heaven?
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Campaign, scratched two doors.
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I see that the thugs at Burberry are coming to me to solve something.
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Take the bar. |
Come on, don't yell here.
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I don't like conflicts, because you can always talk.
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Here we got up right at rush hour.
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The whole freeway is in full swing, everyone is screaming at me from the windows.
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He also broke his phone. |
He doesn't even buzz.
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I am not a Manatik, but the whole world has been spinning around me since morning.
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As if someone, bitch, jinxed it.
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I missed the broadcast, got on the grandmother now there is no connection.
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And let today be such an unlucky Monday.
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I believe in the best and sing just in case.
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Chorus:
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If there is longing in my soul and it would seem like a skiff, I sing.
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Hear, brother? |
I sing.
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Just how I can sing in-in-in-in.
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If the sun shines brightly, joy and comfort are at home - I sing.
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Hear, brother? |
I sing.
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I just sing from the bottom of my heart.
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Second Verse: YarmaK
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There are a lot of morons around, we are tormenting the earth.
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You can't kill everyone, you can't remake everyone, you can't retrain everyone.
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I am also an eccentric for someone.
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This is how we live:
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- Yes, you are a goat.
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- And you're an asshole.
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- Fuck off!
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Well, that's what we talked about.
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Everything suddenly became clear to everyone.
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And so for the day already with the eighth.
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And if the Buddha even once rode the subway at rush hour,
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He would write to people:
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- If they push you, shoot, man.
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When everything around me is furious, I look for strength in myself,
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Let the devils behave ugly.
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I believe everyone who screwed up is waiting, believe.
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A normal storm at a concert.
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Sometimes something happens, hair stands on end.
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Someday I will remember these stripes with a smile.
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And everything that seemed terrible to me will somehow be digested.
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So what's the point of worrying, what's the point of worrying then?
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Chorus:
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If there is longing in my soul and it would seem like a skiff, I sing.
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Hear, brother? |
I sing.
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Just how I can sing in-in-in-in.
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If the sun shines brightly, joy and comfort are at home - I sing.
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Hear, brother? |
I sing.
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I just sing from the bottom of my heart. |