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

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Акааа..Акааа.. Акааа..Акааа.. Акааа..Акааа.. Это АК-47! Акааа..Акааа.. Акааа..Акааа.. Акааа..Акааа.. Че! Ё! Это АК-47! Ё! Каждый хочет от кусочка отломать побольше, Кошелёк потолще, зарплату прячет тёща, Дальше будет жёще, одобрено минздравом, Пластик здравый! Не бойся, детка, АК-47 рядом! Все тип-топ пока

I remember when you used to be mine Way back when I was too naive to love you right But now if I only had the opportunity I would do anything Because my heart still

In for an evening Of light entertainment And who would believe you Could worry the neighbours? Come on over to my place Playing with uranium If it blows up in your face See you on the other

Dark pines the moonlit road Winter time the crunch of snow I wonder will your smile show That love is making its way back home Love is making its way back home Love is making

Change, Change, Start a new life Get a job and a beautiful wife Start living like the rest of the world. With money and a girl. Dream, dream, there in my bed I had it