I see a canvas of districts every day through the window
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And it's all the same that here the earth leaves from under the feet:
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I have it one, one (one, one)
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My native bottom!
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I see a canvas of districts every day through the window
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And it's all the same that here the earth leaves from under the feet:
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I have it one, one (one, one)
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My native bottom!
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And here at the bottom, alas, far from Atlantis
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Stronghold of bandits, thieves' settlement
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And why, I don’t understand, maybe from a boot
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Is the picture trembling again on the half-cracked screen?
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And not a single landmark will tell you how to get through
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We got stuck like mud in a swamp. |
We are halfway
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After all, it keeps us here too much, whatever you say
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Leaving life here is the only reason to leave
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Hunger is not an aunt, sweep the path
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Until a heart rose in my chest
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I solve the eternal question: “How to make a fuss
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A little bit of joy among the dullness?
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A little joy in the middle of the gray
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(A little bit of joy among the dullness)
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I see a canvas of districts every day through the window
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And it's all the same that here the earth leaves from under the feet:
|
I have it one, one (one, one)
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My native bottom!
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I see a canvas of districts every day through the window
|
And it's all the same that here the earth leaves from under the feet:
|
I have it one, one (one, one)
|
My native bottom!
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Bikini Bottom in the morning, dirty Gotham in the evening
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I go up in the old elevator to high-rise balconies
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To once again take a sleepy look
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The landscape that the toads here call the swamp, here it is
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Smoke flows from the towers in an endless stream
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And to take off like a moth, leaving a stunted cocoon
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You should at least get electrocuted
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And I am grateful for the moment of my freedom to these lines
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How! |
(Wow!)
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The sun will illuminate the headlight
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The fog that covered the torn sidewalks will go away,
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But Even sitting on the hump of an old high-rise building
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Nothing is visible except the city of Cheboksary
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(Nothing, nothing but the city of Cheboksary)
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I see a canvas of districts every day through the window
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And it's all the same that here the earth leaves from under the feet:
|
I have it one, one (one, one)
|
My native bottom!
|
I see a canvas of districts every day through the window
|
And it's all the same that here the earth leaves from under the feet:
|
I have it one, one (one, one)
|
My native bottom!
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(My native bottom...) |