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Авторы >> fanofBettyBoop


Dreams about happiness

I know, you help me take a dream,
I every night heard my horror scream,
I want forget this fucken men,
I take this week is only ten.

You find me, know, my richest prince.
I so like this pleasure sense.
I ready run… I ready run,
But so afraid this accurate gun.

You will be brave, my bodyguard,
No matter what everywhere blood.
All called me fucken, fucken slut,
But you make for him bloody cut.

I so tired drink fucken coffee
And every man called me profy.
I hope, you blown his trashy tonque
And we will lived afterwards fun.



От автора: надеюсь, перевести будет не сложно)))


© fanofBettyBoop, 2008

Опубликовано 03.02.2008. Просмотров: 430.


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