Eight Line Poem
The tactful cactus by your window
Surveys the prairie of your room
The mobile spins to its collision
Clara puts her head between her paws
They've opened shops down West side
Will all the cacti find a home
But the key to the city
Is in the sun that pins the branches to the sky
Похожие новости.
Блюз Для Всіх
Ще не вмерло те, що взагалі-то мало б, Буде ще останній гріх. Плач, Україно, все так невдало, Радіохвилі б’ються з-під ніг. І ти спокійно засинаєш, Як о дванадцятій вночі лунає Для своїх і для чужих Для нас, Для
Heavy Weather
In the news today Heavy weather Oh, I can remember The skies were so blue That lucky old moon I promised to you Now it's gone lately Something's happening I don't understand Oh, how come Decembers Are hotter that
Далеко Не Простое Любопытство
Сколько раз собирались посидеть мы с тобой. Вот опять не везет - У тебя сто забот, и у меня вечный бой: То отъезд, то отлет. На свои именины, как всегда, позвонил я, Но молчит снова
Money
Money! All for money! Save your money! Hide your money! Stuff your money! Hump your money! Keep your money! All for money...! Waning patience, Peoples appetite, Disposition, This possession, Dispossessed from all the attractions, Dancing bears of eroticism, Self-absorbed delusion, Inclusion of dysfunction, I now await
Whiskey And You
There's a bottle on the dresser by your ring And it's empty so right now I don't feel a thing And I'll be hurtin' when I wake up on the floor But I'll