My Last Journey
Dead birds fall from the sky
Just like the rain an October night
The sun has stopped shining
Never again to spread its light
If emotions still burn
They'll soon be brought to ashes
Just like a withering flower
They'll slowly fade away
The place you've named paradise
Was burnt to ashes ages ago
An eternal landscape of ashes and dust
The end is here, face it and enjoy it
15-letni mlodziniec przychodzi do fryzjer i siadajac na fotelu, mowi:
- Golenie.
Fryzjer wszystko przygotowal, ale nie zaczyna golenia.
- Na co pan czeka?
- Na zarost.
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Unmarked Helicopters