It's my arm and it's my beauteful eye My compassion and my running sing On and on I hear the noise inside me I think to keep it or not to keep I was born
Translation: V.i.p.s.. Frankness Of The Pressthroated Person, Who Stays On The Stairs At 5 P.m..
my arm and it's my beauteful eye My compassion and my running sing On and on I hear the noise inside me I think to keep it or not to keep I was born with
