Среда, 19.06.2019
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Strange question (BG)
Here is too many a draught,
But too strong spirit;
Here are many old women,
They all read aloud;
People walk up to me
With the intention to break my nose,
And you're surprised why I don't live here –
Sweetheart, you know,
It seems to me, this is a strange question.
In tobacco production
All are fighting for power,
Or distil moonshine
From what there is no sense to steal;
And shop superintendent was not here a year,
He onto this hammered in;
And you're surprised why I don't smoke –
Maybe I'm an idiot, but I'm not a moron.
One your friend
Eats with a spoon goudron,
And the other one shoots all,
Who knows more than he.
Somebody approaches to me with submachine gun and says,
"And are you running a cross?"
And you're surprised why I'm here transiently –
Sweetheart, you know,
It seems to me, it's you're not seriously.
You came to me in the morning,
You sat down on the bed,
You asked, if I have
A permission breathe,
And if is valid my pass
To go out into a movie?
Now you say, "Well where to you're going from here?"
You know, the main thing – away, and there all is equal.

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