More songs by Полка
Description
Nighttime Moscow, fogged-up windows, and the smell of incense in the cabin - all mixed with smoke, exhaustion, 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 stacks of money, 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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