A mirror full of plague faces a cracked eye -catching basket
Body headless and neck and hot lashes, sticks and vomiting and vomiting a star hanging out of a sun that turns off. Juvenile
The smell of cannabis and sap from the margins of the citys chains of the life of the Zebun
and the leadership who is serving from a better world staring at the sky with a stressful form
The bent of the bent of their faces. Preded
Maidon City full of hands and feet of all thugs and murderers and murderers and bought Nafsa in your chest for fear of being free to see anyone except the executioner
but see my lane and my last red tongue.
In our city they have the heart of our city they have dagger
Your existence is unclean and the air blackens your mirrors. The pits to the well of the sage that burns Lapa
The anger of the in -depth enthusiasm that we is making us mouse and tail and hole
in a trance of power and laugh at the tale Carry
Take and knock and hit Badr and see you can clear the memory
The only custom of you and your descent in Sohrab how to remember Nedas blood tiger
until your blood will be loud and everybody is a woman
The country is disbelieving but not with the oppression of this first thing.
