IQ as interference in private life

Anatoly Golubovskii

And the moon rises only slightly in the spring evening
A fresh breeze will blow from the River Conder
As zombies moved for doubtful meeting
Gloomy women and men blunt

Maids plagues of pestilence IQ
Visible relief it is human vices
Not in the joy of the biceps, karaoke, barbecue
Their wild stomps from the mean, miserable speeches

They find it difficult to accept the rules of the game
Known since the king of peas:
Nod, to forget, to love, to be able to forgive
And sometimes pretend to fool


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