Sleep, my baby.

< Patri



Sleep, my baby,

Do not think just about anything.

Not that Roesch soldering

invisible nest itself.

shrubs that have become painfully,

to the bizarre laughter. And ugly.

Sleep my baby.

Do not think only about him.

Neither of whom do not think.

Just go to sleep, my baby.

He did not worry about himself,

What here is you?

Protect it?

No protection against blood,

With so gently, kindly,

torturing himself used to suffering.

Gave himself, without thinking of any eye,

and do not appreciate the love,

bordered strange caresses.

Sleep, my baby.

You do not need it.

Well, weep bit,

two or three years, or a breath of eternity,

but how sweet this prison,

because it

It does not give you the newly sprayed

on vile, pathetic spectacle.

Sleep, my baby.

You swallow a piece of pastry in the early morning,

sigh low tremor,

and I feel that it was far away, - this strange man with a pleasant

and velvety tenor.

Sleep, my baby.