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You are a bitter pill in my throat,
Memories, with cheeks furtively peeling off.
You fire, which bare hands
I throw past broken glass.

Ranyus,
I do not cry -
To me it is a joy.
You know,
I increasingly wrapped in a cloak,
Behind dragging backpack -
In it, our past
Shrapnel bites back.
Reaching would throw
into the fire,
After all, the burden is growing,
A force for a long time is running out.
Thank you for this useless but beautiful hobby.

Time goes north.
Though ozyvay - will not return.
Won Storm crawls on jacks,
A moment and rush to her cheeks.
Extinguish the languages ​​that gave burns,
Caressing.
Will come
Tosca with remorse.
This story stone us
It sank to the bottom of the universe.

You are a bitter pill in my throat.
It remains to substitute face
And no matter what distractions -
Wash down your rain.
And do not it is important to
You're my poison or medicine.