I and I disappointed with good and bad hajj and phonemes hesitant to stay and go My body is cold like our lives All the winter season with whom this sadness and saying I made an Ashion to be an Ashion I had lost this day Youre in the sky of Harason Harason The world became a Zandon a Zandon Now the wooden stories of his rainfall is under the umbrella of the rain on my wet moment Your body is not like a story for me
