And I wish I had a wooden cross...

And I wish I had a wooden cross,
The bench to where to call
Stoparik to booze memorial...
Well, to marble your spit!

Spit on your monument!
Me and without them all on the shoulder.
Let go of Russian poets,-
I will be released - they will hatano.

Let's talk and posudin.
Like,how is it? All, like, nothing.
They say the sun rises, the rain cries.
Well, OK...well...

And someone gay in "Mercedes",
Shit comes from the soul.
And I was drier place,
Yes to singing nightingales.

What should I thank? This Baba.
To say it simpler, just****;.
With her many freebie asleep,
And me with her to sleep.

I've never lived on protection.
And don't forget sidekick,
That was such Sergei Dovlatov -
Narusaku soul!