I'm a beautiful woman, use me,
What you overcame, like I said?
You know yourself that tomorrow you'll be on the other,
Yes, and I'm without you alone will not.
I'm a beautiful woman, that's my destiny,
I - crystal, antique, souvenir and gift,
I'm just one of the most beautiful bodies
I - the most valuable of all in the stamp collection.
I'm a beautiful woman, how funny!
I am the mistress but never the wife.
I will give the roses and wine
And, of course, white Arctic Fox fur coat.
I am a beautiful woman with a fragile soul
And, locked in their icy chambers,
I cry until the morning on the pillow a large.
Beauty and now worth a lot too.
She's a dog howled from the basement,
Closed for a hundred door locks,
She cursed you powerless,
Desperate for the will to go out again.
She screamed, cried, whined,
Claws scraped the steel door.
I am so deeply loved,
That could live without light and food.
She was carrying tricky plans,
About your escape dreaming at night.
And knew this day would come,
When I give to drop to my feet.
And I will go to her, I know.
And, unlocking the first lock,
I know for sure that she's alive,
I know you couldn't do that.
We sit at this stupid door
Cheek pressed against the steel at night.
I say, "come", the dog believes
Dog says: "don't betray".
And I will come back to remove the other locks.
Forgive me, my Prince, let me go...
It's even more than family...
She is sad my freedom...
Cross over the bridge - bombed the mainland.
And if overclocking will fly right into the wall.
I do not believe, I to the trick used to...
Very sincerely yours, that did not break the System...
How to tell that you're different
After this hard time?
How to admit you forgot
Their native hot hands?
How to say I don't wear flowers
On the graves, overgrown with reality.
How to tell what was dream come true,
And you've become grown up and strong?
Rarely I meet women.
Increasingly in skirts - men.
Surely women became less
And the mills they are not so easy.
Surely their words are simple
We began to understand not.
They are for the weak forgive us.
And we force them in any way.
There is a line, a trait, one for which
People become strangers.
And the one who was by your side,
Who knew one of your only name
Who was the hope and other,
Whom you stayed in this world,
Ago not going to jump with fright.
And someone to live... somewhere.
Time is squeezed in the hand gun.
Years fly away like lead.
Now. In order. Laid. Summer.
Pause. Shot. September. And... The End.
If the years that flew,
Although it comes at the end, achieved the goal,
It would not mind. If only managed.
And yet - in the "milk". And yet - in "jelly".
