dmitry zakharych zavolokina grigory will play in novosibirsk igor leningradskaya i stand, i look, the ladoga lighthouse illuminates the night, although there are no miracles in my soul. the caravan of cars is gaining momentum, you are tearing the ring with you with death through the window, then the cracks in the sun, in the chest, the metronome is a chair, the city is waiting for torment. maybe in this world somewhere at the machine she dropped the key, children's ore flash behind the glass, along with the sky beats. here is the front and went under the ice, wishlist excuse hundreds of bells, wormwood on the right, i'm near zelentsy. how many of you are those who left without recognizing. who won under the doubt just the same allah is you my preserved. i can’t break through the snowy delirium that separates us for seven decades, i just want you to know that you are in your paradise, because of you i am standing here now. don't be sad, my favorite salty nastasya. she is my all-gray green darling green nail file, dear side by side and guarding, oh on a horse. i'm running away in my nat