Х##ня

... The head of Peter the Great
I breathed snow white
s probably going to die tomorrow

Hangover grass
the head of Peter the Great
I breathed snow ...

good range and pink candy wrappers
rollers backpacks and felt hats
be yourself surprised and there as Pitch
hopak danced in Uganda
but racial propaganda have no sympathy
but like the zoo to fuck
passer puke steamed wine from maggots
let snow covered the sadness
Malyshev breasts ass show
stabbing in the frame and all of a sudden
man is a friend
for each bucket and spade
to them you trushno Loba
but these things more globally
than a finger in his mouth and peaceful snoring in the bedroom
firing in the streets it is not right
victory Tetris have not corrected
Shedding the quiet gravel here
Valery Sjutkin could not love you all
and your cold soup, and this wild sur

Speaking of the underground - a pit dug in the subway.
impermanence shaved head at guests brothels
surprised by dancing like a hoot
how to throw the fingers
like rusting iron eggs from cakes,
though Armory coached.
the act of burning at the Karl Marx
and you could compete crumpled police authority
reproachful gaze of his father
& Quot; nothing you on these rails & quot ;. hiding does not light
solemnly notes skinny jeans
The sign she began, but the walls are not painted in aquamarine
We brought up the same street of the Soviet army, annoyed Marie.
antidepressant in the air soars
and half-deaf strikes on chi-chi
sink and dry with a tone of Chemistry, published columns
the groans of the partitions, squeals, chomping under the covers
but who's talking
he got up and the first alarm clock
Babylon because we mudily
and anyway, to share. by screws, drunk driver!
wipers us podmetut insane out of shops
because if you burn it burn to ashes

Hangover grass
the head of Peter the Great
I breathed snow white
probably going to die tomorrow

Hangover grass
the head of Peter the Great
I breathed snow white
along the paths of the music we sing slowly