street [Theme] Page 3

On the street ***er! Decided to take a walk, was about two hours, showered, brushed my ass. Go like this, see coursesny, and decided to go home and eat Shawarma, haha.

Damn, don't know about You, but I love to walk at night. On the street there's nobody there. Only prostitutes, drug addicts, thieves, murderers, maniacs and, of course, vampires, Shh!

In most towns the main street is given to institutions that bring maximum profit. Well and municipal education such as the police and County offices are located in the following neighborhoods. Or a little further.
In his experience most places reserved on the main drag for profit-and-loss businesses. Municipal enterprises like cops and county offices would be a block or two over. Maybe more.

Outside it's now raining
And tears are falling from my eyes.
Why is all this happening?
Why is it all over?
Outside it's now raining
And tears are falling from my eyes.
Why did have to happen?
Why did it all have to end?

Dull streets and dull life.

On the streets that bear the names of Soviet mummies
Your death room - here was born, darkened and died.

In childhood I liked more alleys than the streets. And still something left for me from their earlier charm. I was more fun to play in such beautiful and comfortable. And the trees and the bushes and the fence leaning towards you and sometimes touched you, as if they had hands and they like to feel your face and find out if you've been here before. And they knew you. It felt like a shared secret binds you with the lanes and the objects that were there. But the streets are... well, streets were always the same, they always had to be alert, that you have not moved the car, and in the Windows of homes always stuck up someone's face and watched his eyes, thrusting their noses into his business, so to speak, that eyes had noses.

Street usually either kills or teaches.

I like ancient stones. Street, drawn by the swords of the conquistadors; the Church, anchored in the ground, sagging roof - it reminds me that I'm young.

Surprisingly, in usually snowless Washington was a real Christmas snow. He walked day after day, barely noticeable, snowflakes, a rare but major slowly fell to the ground in no wind. The streets were black and wet from melting instantly under the wheels of cars of snow and pollen, but the lawns and rooftops were covered with a convincing fluffy cover, it seemed, ringing silence.

- Barash, weather - tale, come with us!
Where?
- To the street, tree-needles!
- Why?
- I don't know what to do!
Thank you, I'm better here.

Do you need money? Well, make money.
You know, the streets just eat the poor
They wait for mistakes, looking at you and listening.

Morning. The whole city waking up from sleep...
Working people everywhere are fleeing.
The rumble and the traffic, Someone swears
And... you will definitely hit somebody.
Noon. The capital like more elegant,
Back and forth the crews scurry...
A crash on the front hit the rear
And... you will definitely hit somebody.
Evening. The streets gas lit,
Speech free fall and the whip
Like something alive in the hands of a rising
And... you will definitely hit somebody.
Night. People are sleeping already. The time has come for them
To finish your day-to-day work.
If we step down the street will do
There's sure to hit somebody.

The best fashion show on the street. It has always been. And always will be.