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To the concierges

You don't like a smoke, so damn it
It kills words, head spinning'...
The rumor has been spread already that
There is a thing between you and me going.
What can I say to you now - the thread is lost....
Should I stop not being myself and start sleeping at home?
We can't be roughly estimated... But, meanwhile,
Why are we putting on brakes, not a gas?
The eternal questions, why and what for...?
I'm going crazy, you're not yourself...
And who were those nights spent in Crimea for,
I'll pass it over to him if i see him....
Your squeaky voice is like an electric shock,
The fact that I'm drunk without a drop of alcohol - your fault!
Now the whole country is going to find out before the twilight,
The FM waves would tell about everything...
 
I remember white wallpapers, black dishes
There are two of us in Khrushchyovka, who are we and where we're from?
We pulling the curtains down, there's coffee, dessert is getting cold....
Can you explain to me, concierges, why am i so crazy about her?
 
Let's sit here just like that till sun goes up
Wait, don't go! - But I have to go...
And if there is only one way out ahead,
Why are we hot then cold now and again?
I'm tired of putting it all back in place,
As well as trying to turn back time, again and again....
Your touch used to melt my metal,
You're like a fifth element - impossible nor give or take...
But this time our game is going to an end,
You're silent as always, i'm the one talking
We are 15 minutes away from the morning
Don't call it - I'd rather catch it somewhere and disappear....
We'll try to sew on everything, without raking up,
We'll delete all the mobile numbers...
And I can't resist no more not to ask: "Let's give it another go?"...........
 
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