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Rest is the only way it should be
We are writing a letter to Santa Claus
And we don't dream about the rumble of the cosmodrome or this icy blue
We cook cherry jam without a stone in the basin
Here we, chny cold grandfather and darkness
We rejoice in the last , warm days of autumn
Cheese and figs are tastier with wine, although we have only a still life
We will take you as quickly as by plane
When we are high, our soul is low
And again summer, and again we walk
A black swimsuit can't hold back big breasts
We open the condom with our teeth. Red lipstick