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А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я

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pink-floyd — Free Four

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Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young In a world of magnets and miracles Our thoughts...
Hey, Eugene, This is Henry McClean And I've finished my beautiful flying machine And I'm ringing to say That I'm...
It was just before dawn One miserable morning in black 'forty four. When the forward commander Was told to sit...
What shall we use to fill the empty spaces Where waves of hunger roar? Shall we set out across the sea of faces In...
Mighty waves come crashing down, The spray is lashing high into the eagle's eye Shrieking as it cuts the devil wind, ...
Well, I'm a King Bee Buzzing around your hive Yes, I'm a King Bee, child Buzzing around your hive I can...
Leave, when I ask you to leave, Lucy Please, far away from me, Lucy Oh, go little girl Seen, is (oh so) broken up...
In yellow shoes I get the blues Though I walk the streets with my plastic feet With my blue velvet trousers, make me feel...
Scream thy last scream old woman with a casket Blam blam your pointers point your pointers Waddle with apples...
Oh my, girl sitting in the sun Go buy, candy and a currant bun I like, to see you run Like that...... ...


The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You suffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself till you die.
Life is a short, warm moment
And death is a long cold rest.
You get your chance to try
In the twinkling of an eye:
Eighty years, with luck, or even less.
So all aboard for the American tour,
And maybe you'll make it to the top.
And mind how you go.
I can tell you, because I know.
You may find it hard to get off.
You are the angel of death
And I am the dead man's son.
And he died like a mole in a fox hole.
And everyone is still in the run.
And who is the master of fox hounds?
And who says the hunt has begun?
And who calls the tune in the courtroom?
And who beats the funeral drum?
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You suffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself till you die.







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