Half past three at night, and what are you scribbling,
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Like Tamogochchi hour. |
Shadow covered at night.
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Again we are silent - from a year to a year,
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From a year to the grave - you believe and you will see a lot.
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We now have our own weather in the city,
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And what will get to you, and you just come to your senses.
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I need the one. |
Bits conveyed age.
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And what will remain of you is only emotions.
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Our voices are heard on the wire.
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Hiding a smile. |
It doesn't matter how you breathe.
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From my threshold I take one step.
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Yard cat running somewhere slowly.
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And I heard that her soul still lived
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The character of the demon is the face of a baby.
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We are barely breathing there, and this slow step.
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And they didn't know how to decide - a tie or a scarf.
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Owl!
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Get in trust, at least get in the door, yo!
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We talk a lot about potions.
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Believe me, I won't give you wings, why the hell do you need feathers?
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Mike has a beast, I smash everything to shreds.
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When it's sour on the one who calls;
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And the one who bogs is already apparently sour.
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We, like the Spartans 300, cuddle her after the disco dance.
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She will. |
Not whiskas pussy is full.
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A couple of mojitos. |
The face is a hit.
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After - home, bad in the morning.
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There is a thistle in my head, her boyfriend is a goof,
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Not rich chtol, or he was bad.
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We swing wherever it hits, until we fall to the floor with a cap.
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To the full we tempt ourselves with ladies.
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Maybe enough is better, otherwise they are unlikely to become mothers.
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On the waves or on the panel, in the monastery or in the club under white.
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We are like a blizzard; |
and we break fir trees with ourselves, we continue, we are in business.
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And no matter how you turn, we drown you right up to the neck.
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I will also sell some feathers, some feathers, some feathers.
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And no matter how you turn, we drown you right up to the neck.
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I will also sell some feathers, some feathers, some feathers. |