My songs are not played on the radio
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They say that not the format is too hard
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They have an aversion to overdriven guitars.
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And they listen to everything new
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They say: I would have sung a duet with Kinchev long ago
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Yes, I would have been crammed into his friends for a long time
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Or a variant proven over so many years:
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Record a cover for Kino with Shevchuk
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They say that you are a poet, they say, such a direct
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Brick in the window, rebar in thought
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Russian man love text simple
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For meaning to be in search of meaning
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Enough of the pentatonic scale already
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Don't break your fingers with seventh chords
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And um, tse, de um, well, you can zhe
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To sing in the kitchen with drunken muzzles
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There is only white snow, there is only gray ice
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Nobody loves and expects the colonel
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All the ships in the harbor - you will sing to me about autumn
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Under the golden sun in my hands you will fall asleep
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Chew, chew, chew, bitch, chew, chew orbit without sugar!
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Chew, chew, chew, bitch, chew, chew for another 30 years!
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Chew, chew, chew, bitch, chew, chew orbit without sugar!
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Chew, chew, chew, bitch, chew, chew! |
Alternative - no!
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More songs about the motherland, autumn and night
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About the autumn homeland at night
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Under the tragic text and chorus exactly the same
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Like Tsoi - this is quoted very much here
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For the song to the boys to go into the yard
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Gotta turn up the reverbs
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Immediately - no to all endings in -kor
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Even grunge gets sanctioned
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Let Metallics cut down in the west
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Stadiums rumble under Slipknot
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Let's ritually masturbate to our Russian rock
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With its eternal themes, notes
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Something fresh is the enemy of stability
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New sound? |
Found perversion!
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Russian rock is the most stylish style
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So why should we change perfection?
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White snow, gray ice...
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White snow, gray ice...
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White snow, gray ice...
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White snow, gray ice...
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White snow, gray ice...
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White snow, gray ice...
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White snow, gray ice...
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White snow, gray ice...
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The ice is always melting here... |