Mr. Navalny, don't you feel yourself.
It's a one.
Filthy big flies.
Doing nothing all day.
Always moaning and groaning. but his heart is higher than the sky.
In the Klimt Palace.
A splendid feast.
Away enviously.
Shaking his head.
Fly. Forget it.
But under the bewitchment of **emotion.
But you're in the midst of a staggered search.
Wandering around mercilessly.
I can't help but go.
Bow down to your filthy body.
Smell the delicacies of the mountains and the sea.
Even more hateful.
It's like you've eaten a leopard's gall.
He even licked it with his tongue.
In the cup of the highest magnates.
Luscious elixir and gyokuro.
How much like me.
Mediocre and greedy eyes.
Always want to peep.
Absolute spiritual glory.
Look at the red light.
All at once it was condensed into frost.
Angry hands waved.
There was a bang. It's a mess.
You're just going to jail.
I would have liked you to use this.
Stubborn body.
Put the polar prison through.
But I didn't think you had.
I can't bear the flesh.
Torment and torment.
It became over the Caucasus.
The arrogant and uninhibited goshawk.
Set off a burst.
Cynical winds.
Soar over the vast land.
Looking down coldly.
The handsome, pale body.
Lying on the ice and snow.
A flock of innocent and poor white doves.
TremblingCoveringon