Текст песни Кира Белка - про любимую

My favorite terrorist.
To write it oily and slimy:
she thinks quickly; speaks low, bassist;
aims to bite - gets close
to the patient or almost back to back -
someone's Adam's apple is squeezing,
someone is already used to
such as me, for example,
not taking action
contraception when it enters
content of hemispheres
brain or wherever.
She says "you are nothing, sir"
and dizzy from this clatter.

My favorite psychopath.
From seizure to seizure
she smiles indecently cute
and I love candy,
although if I knew how sweet she herself is,
I would only love myself
and was not given to anyone,
as ancient languages ​​are not given to mortals.
I don't remember how long and how long
but even so much to want her completely, without a trace
power does not end
and fatigue does not come.

My favorite drug addict
smokes words in bundles
and looks calm, like from a tank.
Such an innocent simplicity.
And it blows off her twice as hard,
what would she be a valerian,
spilled on the cat
harshly caught mirages
about distant Tmutarakan.
And no matter how much you lick it -
will be panicky little.
But my mother taught in childhood, warned -
do not try any rubbish.