Winter I friable wall
By the gate blocked its path;
Yet a pre tropynky
Not protopchu I somehow,
I was sitting at home, as a slacker;
Notes, the soul of my soul,
find out, that will be on Monday,
What will our Bartholomew.
Winter I friable wall
By the gate blocked its path;
Yet a pre tropynky
Not protopchu I somehow,
I was sitting at home, as a slacker;
Notes, the soul of my soul,
find out, that will be on Monday,
What will our Bartholomew.
