I am tired of being tired of being tired The willow sitting on the black soil of God A wounded tree from my enemy like a burden in the rain. I have a bitter tone My Skin Falling Tale I am A photo of the past my half -June body I am not a man who you are in me I have a wounded in the scales of the scales Take the hands that have gone blood I have been closed to my hand Find all my goodness to find me
If Iran Destructive Iran I love this devastating sara If the air is not its pleasant I love this aboard All the world of it is you I love this piece of place I love this piece I love God I love God
