Ours has passed or maybe I passed him Barrow Bandil I closed the hereafter, What happened to my luck I sprinkled with my own hands, At a young age, I experienced a lot of things I could reach the pine. I got into the filth Whatever the kind of love burnt in the peak of judgment You dont know you have the right to Laughter. Laughing at the sadness Why in the young mans ornament is the adornment of my hand Why do I worship so much to say why do you do. People Why are some deprived of the good scent of wheat all my words and summarize in a sentence Bahram alive because in the sky
I know you dont know too hard but painful this heart I dont know where to start ... When is it for this nation? When reading in the ear is no different say or not say that it doesnt work The greater the cavalry The one who wins the failure The Young Pain like I dont understand the word Mahas hand to Mahas body but those who oppress the oppressor of the generation of fuel under the flames of sadness left of the previously The generation that was kicked under the burden of the culture that is left out of the West
