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- Засранный
It really was a meeting
The bottle took a beating
The ladies of the manor
Watched me climb into my car and I was
Going down the track about a hundred and five
They had the stopwatch rolling
I had the headlights blazing I was really alive
And yet my mind was blowing
- Опять Рожать
As you look through my window
Deep into my room
At the tapestries all faded
Their vague and distant glories
Concealed in the gloom
The icy fingers of forgotten passions
Softly brushing my lips
At the tips of my primitive soul