SelfPub: The old soul of youth

The old soul of youth.
Ich, I'm a young beauty!
I'll take all the nines out of the sable:
Yulka, Hanka, Tanka...
All beauties will be blacked out,
All the confetti of the treat,
yes a tea drink.
And they, like in a bottle, rounded me,
lead choirs, yes napevat:
- Not the Men of the Crown!
Okay, devitsa didn't get angry,
If not the Queen,
You'll be Princess!
Hop, GOP! Oh, oh, oh...