Smela Bashny.Net

< Anna Tantsyura



Damn, this city eats memory cells in hills, in all painful joints. We are conveniently close to some, simply woven, but he has done through us enormous ditches.
This city is the guardian of the past, it - lock all our dem and all that was in it lived -. Our youth inheritance
There we drank the first liter, is cheaper but braver. Here running kilobits found his people.
There hysterically looking for the truth, we learned the love and death. Here we were happy. But still, the point. It's time to sober up.
We parted, razelozilis, each builds itself format. In this warm late autumn our manuscript burn.
This city, like jazz - it is impossible to stay forever, yes. He raised us he hated us and he is - our living water