More songs by Полка
Description
Night-time Moscow, fogged-up windows and the smell of incense in the cabin - all mixed with smoke, fatigue and that soft leather you don't want to let go of. Outside, the city is noisy, inside, stars explode, and in this chaos there is a strange tenderness: somewhere between wads of cash, clowns' jokes and broken promises, there is still a desire to wake up a little later, only nearby.
Lyrics and translation
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