There was once a detective,
From sad violin playing .
He did not like
Or so he thought .
He was so unbearable ,
But he was a neighbor .
His name - John Watson ,
He Sherlock Holmes suffered .
Million , a million , a million different poses:
On the floor, out the window - you see.
Passionate look , a low groan , on the shoulder - a hickey ,
Dzhonlok - OTP of my dreams
Million , a million , a million different poses:
On the floor, out the window - you see.
Passionate look , a low groan , on the shoulder - a hickey ,
Dzhonlok - OTP of my dreams
Ex-soldier , who is also a physician,
And he has his own blog.
Watson Holmes adored
But he hid it as best he could .
Anderson understood the point.
Maybe he has gone mad?
But even he suddenly realized :
bedroom one they need.
Million , a million , a million different poses:
On the floor, out the window - you see.
Passionate look , a low groan , on the shoulder - a hickey ,
Dzhonlok - OTP of my dreams
Million , a million , a million different poses:
On the floor, out the window - you see.
Passionate look , a low groan , on the shoulder - a hickey ,
Dzhonlok - OTP of my dreams
He will not forget that day ,
That phone call .
He did not acknowledge his death ,
And for a long time could not believe it .
Three long years it stings ,
Believed he had hoped .
And many times recalled
His last conversation with him .
Million , million, million of long days
Flowed forever sunk into the void.
How much for a lifetime he saw Death ,
But I could not forget the only one .
Million , million, million of long days
Flowed forever sunk into the void.
How much for a lifetime he saw Death ,
But I could not forget the only one .
Million , million, million of long days
Flowed forever sunk into the void ...
