< Anna Tantsyura
It ends at midnight. You're a little ustavsh and dented. Night rolls in a vice, the wind howls frosty chill. All the neighbors behind the wall noisy, it's not sleep, "so you uymites" I just need a rest now.
You dymish and dymish, all hypnosis is my window, and the moon pours yellow thick syrup, I sit on the floor, I see a silent movie. There are no tears, no emotion, only the blind chills.
You sound to me like the bells of the church, so spring comes so unexpectedly, accidentally hurt. You're a ghost town you * re lake, rock you - everything that bites into the throat with the word "hurt»
Whiskey. Old motive, it seems, is the Spleen, yes, Vasilyev is always beautiful. What are you Revesz again? Come chairs teeth. Because now you finally - everything is clear ...