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Empty-colored skies. Defoliation is eating us.
Exodus from blind summer, chasing at random,
A bell's babble is boiling, forgotten armies are smoking,
But what if all the things we're seeking is acquired when we dissect
A fleshly, native, precious ourselves?
A global big love
My bottomless moneybox in emptiness
This snow sees off wild and fever campaign.
Evening dense faces, unstoppable people,
Immortals and living - all in same grinning chain
But what if all the things we're seeking are far behind the horizon
On deadly destroying road directly to nord?
A global big love
My secret wicket in emptiness
To sew up a icy wound and all the rest time choking with a lollypop(*)
To walk hardly, stubbornly or roll like a wheel,
To look in foreign windows, torturing happy houses -
But what if all the things we're seeking are laughing right here,
For example - inside a mirrored-Christmas(**) lantern
A global big love
My magic toy in emptiness
My hungry moneybox in emptiness
My secret wicket in emptiness
(*)in russian "леденец" ('ledenets'/lollypop) is derived from "лед" ('lyod'/ice)
(**)literally "Mirrored-New Year". In post-USSR New Year is celebrating pretty like Christmas in western countries. https://lyricstranslate.com
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