Again, like every night, I Sitting my heart I say the martyr is again a lot ... Iran ... O ... Long live ... Iran Iran Arakaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Play A pound of their ashes, two rings of their rings a piece of bone, a flower branch, a wing and a full -fledged butter, a little soil the same size coffins, in each of the caskets the casket, the cloud, the cloud. Rural, Hello and Salvation Perfume Ayyat Mothers, Your Baby Baby The Glasses You Given, sent to the fronts. Smells weird, smells of apple smells The one who can go, go to the Qiblahs Leave to the deed, leave you in love Where the sun is in the sun, the apple flower garden sees! My noble kids! My apple garden! Dont miss your love, dont leave Iran alone
