Разговор двух подруг песня текст

Обновлено: 09.11.2024

– Послушай, заткнись. Я люблю его. И это – не обсуждается.
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Оля *Лукойе* Шерри ©2015
DIALOGUE OF TWO FRIENDS

- Listen, what's the point that you look into his mouth, he doesn't love you, doesn't protect you, and you still can't breathe, as if heavenly honey is dripping from his lips or gold bars are falling? You are taller than him, and your whole life with him is suicide with a five hundred attempt! You will scatter into dust, with a guarantee, but not immediately - first you will give up your soul to the last thread, and your heart is in holes, like from leprosy, or like after carpet bombing. After all, in order to fall, you need to have insurance, and from him there is no support or joy - only his fingers are dexterous and caresses them every time like the last, scoundrel! Yes, you will finally calm down! Otherwise, you wear wounds in your heart proudly, as if monisto, take a better look at this pianist - I said he is cool and an apartment on Presnenskoye, and is in love with you like a goddess. Enough for me to drive about some stairs, even Jacob, there you can and easily disappear. You need stability, not the wind in your veins, you share intimate and intimate things with him, and he holds it over your head like a sword. Honey, the game won't even pay off. Remember all the liters of bitter tea when you were waiting for the call and turned pale from the sounds! What are you talking about, what strong hands - even when he ends, he looks into the eyes, like in a mirror, this is a perversion! What are you talking to me about stellar rotation and supernova explosions? Darling, there is nothing new in this sublunary world! And not as vulnerable as you, it broke, and you pick up crumbs, play roles, understand - this is not enough for life! He will always be proud and frantic, and you burn out so fantastically quickly - you will burn out and quit! And then again the eternal autumn, and the branches are completely without leaves, and life is empty and does not make sense at all, and only to re-read SMS and break your fingers until they crunch. After all, he will chop his heart into cabbage, fool, this is not your score! So what, that with him the storms are an affectionate cat purring the blues, is impossible, unthinkable with such an alliance, understand! - tears the sails to shreds, and the shores like a mirage. And the pillow is wet every night, he again laid a bend, and for all these "be softer" of yours he only kisses the temple, like a smith-and-wesson . Look, what a nut-eyed rake, a casanova piece . Oxtis! Drop it! Let your supernova choke!

- Listen, shut up. I love him. And it is not discussed.
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