Simply so there were ideas,
Have flied up highly, were broke about asphalt.
The wind has picked up and not regretting forces
The rests of impressions has carried away, has not asked.
Simply so a wave of memoirs
Will carry away me, not wishing to know recognitions
In silent city, in a silent whirlpool,
Where traps раскинуты another's lusts.
Song
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