We live in a world of fantasy ...

< Felix Komarov



We live in a world of fantasy
And the one who lives, also coined
But just as the flowers sprout from mud
In the silver sea bathing the moon
Flying dragons and
airplanes Crystal Castles sung by oboes
At the tip of the needle of the country flock
And the hands are not raznimut lovers swarms
Through the wall pass goes to work
They sit in restaurants honeycomb
And die and come alive again
And hell painted on stenochke
paradise Maybe paradise tattoo on his forearm
One who unloads itself from the oven ...
All shaky, air, easily and loosely
Steel reinforcement strengthens all night ...

Fall asleep and wake up ... but where is the dream,
In that woke everyone rushed at stake.