dear friend, pub all the same.
All the same stuff emblazoned on the walls,
all the same price. Better to wine?
I do not think; not better or worse.
no progress. And good, what no.
Pilot zip line, one,
as a fallen angel, suppresses vodka. violin
even the old memory excite
my imagination. In the window
looming white, like virginity, roof,
and the bell buzzes. already dark.
Why are you lying? And why my hearing
no longer distinguish truth from falsehood,
and it requires some new words,
unknown to you - Deaf, others,
but able to be uttered,
like before, Only your voice.