Burnished shpaller ,
Styra - five aces
Baby, I'm not a simpleton ,
Loch loose .
If peredochek ,
The nature of the weak,
Kachumay flowered
& quot; thank you & quot; and & quot; shad up & quot ;.
On the pocket pack ,
Camel, White Sea ,
That's the whole stash ,
I go out into the yard.
Numbered with mobile phones ,
Erased as dropped ,
And after - cute ,
If anything, call me.
Pulled in the sky,
Birds jamb ,
We remain , baby ,
Everyone at his .
Woolen cap ,
Blued barrel ,
Take away , baby ,
Well, everything went .
And do not slёzki ,
Roll down her cheeks ,
Type on serёzke ,
Do you love your mother .
You know, foolishly ,
Looks like this,
Parishsya for tchotchke ,
Yes keep.
