SelfPub: Damn internat

We will order the coffin, the funeral of the right. Will find you and bury... - Anya hummed, rocking on the bed like a pendulum in a cramped coffin clock.
Yes, I have not once heard this song. The neighborhood kids often howled her under my window, accompanying himself with clapping and pritoptyvaya. But as he sang her new hair began to involuntarily move.