32 lines
584 B
Plaintext
32 lines
584 B
Plaintext
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Bute lead showers
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Do not be sad about his son,
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Wicked share cursing,
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By bubbling Russia
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He urges his horse.
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Civil war rumbles
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From dawn to dusk,
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Many trails in the field,
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Only one truth.
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Bute lead showers,
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We are predicting trouble
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We are on the shoulders heaved
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And war and misery.
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Well, over our fate is no accident
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Flaming star.
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We swear to her life
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Forever, forever.
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And over the steppe sinister
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Raven let not turning,
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We're forever
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We are going to live.
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If over the world again burst of thunder,
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The sky will flash fire,
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You whisper to us only,
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We will come to the rescue.
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