LP feat. Vale K. - Nekam ! 

For all those who don't understand Sloveinan language or this song I made a lyric translation for all ya folks, so you can understand what this great man is trying to explain p.s. Luka upam da ne zamerš I will buy myself a poststamp and send myself somewhere where I will enjoy sweet happiness until my last heartbeat somewhere, where miners still have their jobs where im still like careless kid and my mom still has her nerves somewhere, where injustices don't exist, where caravan stops and even dogs dont bark anymore somewhere, where I will live as I want, where I will be with the people, that death took them apart from me somewhere, where my grandma, with her honest palm will spread butter with sugar on bread somewhere in the night where you and me were laughing in the memory that still exsists somewhere, motherfucker somewhere before I lay in the grave among candles, spruces that I will escape somewhere where indifferently luck flows that geniue one that never stumbles somewhere, where all silently running hiding when world is being cruel and life is so transient somewhere, we all know we have our own somewhere, and if you hide there someday I want you to know, I get ya CHORUS: where sun is shining your face and wind blows in your sails this everyone has and its different for everybody im aware, that everyone needs their escape from its hustle where one feels like a human on a top of the world somewhere where a wave slaps over your shoulders there is no time for phobias and all the worries are useless somewhere, where you feel like home time stops in your head peace, relaxation, you cant save all the world but you can, atleast take life with a small spoon before platter of life is empty somewhere, where is not wrong what you are carrying in your heart and noone will kick you unjustified where one is debt free and its still left for a flight ticket where is still warm where one can throw his shirt off where during work shift its still time for lunchbreak and a cup of coffe where between poor and rich a truce was made where even Barcelona and Madrid finally shook their hands where noone digs trenches with their hands and no bombs are being throwed only olympic spears where man preserves his clean enviroment and water is running where oil ran before