What you did with yourself the blood of the pilgrims what you did with the pedestrian street Mouzenzadeh is singing Nazr Nahr What you did with the blood of the city of the city What a pain does it just love autumn He reads Make me in the prostitutes of blood The storm flower. The wave of my sonnets My existence and the explosion of the temperature tail After you the neutral bombs do *** Look, I did you like a full day Why did you stress it I think the words I know my brain Dont say in the skulls of Stalin Ice Solve you, you are my madness, which your visit may not even be on my grave Help me?
