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I'll write down my thoughts in a diary
In my youth, the typewriter sewed things well
A piece of summer in my heart. Sea, sand, shells in the heart
There are only mushrooms in my head
Boots in the corner with my son
Thoughts in my head do not let me sleep. Bad thoughts blow up the brain
Night race is my style
The wind is in the heat and I'm shparu that I 'm sad my sadness
Pink roses to my classmate
A lot of thoughts in my head is the way to burning
Picnic, the freshness of the linen is my merit
My faithful friend, the Dragunov rifle