We're the Serbian army Of those who are ready with the iPhone But we don't have any more contacts Only the army and another post But I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you in flesh and blood I miss you I miss you in flesh and blood I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you In the list Of things That I don't have That I don't have Do you know The night of Saturday night I mean the black one I mean the black one Do you know The people who run in their underwear They say they don't exist anymore They say they don't exist anymore And if I tell you about *** Scissors, paper, stone You say I'm depressed That I'm not in the context, that I smell of march But if I take you to the park You tell me, take me to the center Because there is no field I can go out of my mind like the last time We're the Serbian army Of those who are ready with the iPhone But we don't have any more contacts Only the army and another post But I miss you I miss you I miss you Another post But I miss you I miss you I miss you In the list Of things That I don't have That I don't have That I don't have That I don't have We're the Serbian army Of those who are ready with the iPhone But we don't have any more contacts Only the army and another post But I miss you I miss you I miss you In the list Of things That I don't have That I don't have That I don't have That I don't have That I don't have I miss you In the list Of things That I don't have That I don't have That I don't have