сливки скисли - минуты выпиты запятыми - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

What is good and what is bad the same marshak, what is Mayakovsky if it weren’t for the pressure drops of the pressure that had turned their heads to many wipes wounded in the area of ​​higher liver. An old song skiing in the summer and make a hermit of Lenin tomorrow the cadastral audience imitate tattoos They were removed from production from the chews of Khubba-Buba and Malabar when the latex is found in them, so it will be possible to love it quickly only with the liners of the Love company from where happiness from the films is predicted in the prayer of the Satanist, he fell to the ground three hundred and fifteen

Square - Figure of the star adversely in the joyful square of which I am glad than the circle

I spit out the thoughts of mercury with a lump of mercury - I exchanged the rest of the disease in a stall for a thermometer of the young eczuper, he measured desires with a circul and gifts for the New Year from loved ones, I finish the ananos juice low from a column with a valerian nearby a kitty hugs with my foot, because it is the childhood of any that begins with her. They love to nervous good as a waterproof Kuter, and evil calms the shackles of the songs of the songs of Yuri Loza Cosmos - a pantry of the unquenchable imagination of my double and without it not to be sad not to quench their thirst cannot be in my bag of air for only two, but you will still survive despite everyday life Circumstances of Socher Saturn, in the summer of the planet on a diet in a calm position. The concrete of the octave rolled against the background, phonit alphabet, such a priori.

Expression oozes on an express without coffee, under a doping in ping pong and a mimic of hollow, a banana with painting zebra and torn oceans,

It is easier to combine and not for the sake of glory. I am in a state of vulgar disabilities, the continuous intellectual erection of sweets, my poetic power over the audience, the facial expressions, misanthropic mise-en-scenes for someone from below will cause snow on the street in the form of fat, while I look at and admire with sodom and admire Marquis de Garden, Masokhically freezed without a blanket, like those unable to start a meal without finding the desired broadcast on a TV antenna

My minutes have been drunk with a head at breakfast at Tifani, quietly everyone.