Beautiful photos with girls and weapons.
Good are known worse by me:
At them, has to be, wings.
With bad even I am amicable:
They want the weapon,
Weapon, weapon, violence!
Have passion to rockets,
And small – what to do without
The weapon in the world it?
In a pocket there is no money,
But there is in a pocket a fig –
The cocked gun.
He dreams of a dinner
Since morning and in the afternoon,
And jacket tapered
Puffs up on it.
And with it I will walk willingly
Towards evening with light baggage,
Closing fingers sweaty
On a trigger.
I am purposeful, efficient,
Hey that you stared at me? I, it seems, not the cripple.
To me to have a drink – and I will descend for the person.
You meet, clumsy,
With me to poison a skilly
And right after a dinner
I will accustom to drinking to you about the weapon,
Weapon, weapon ballad.
Big player, though growth gnome,
Bluff largely, generally –
For broke, big cones
Also play about a bomb –
We do not have it,
To that we are people modest:
We need the gun.
And here in a pocket bought
And sharp, as peeled
Familiar to everything, stiletto.
Small fry in horror scurries about
On the right side,
We walk over the country.
Under a barrel the getting persons,
Facing a wall! To stand! Not to move!
In vain, the guy, behind oblivion you rummage on drugstores!
Buy though the axe – and you will become the person.
All I will be turned out outside
I will accustom to drinking others not worse
About the lovely weapon,
Weapon, weapon ballad.
To buy underwear?
Whether yes the devil to you in it!
Buy fire –
To the right, round the corner.
Well, begin! Well!
Learn to shoot all!
In newspapers about the weapon –
On each strip!
Here it is bitter at heart:
For papier-mache pound.
In people, puppies, kittens!
Sale, glory to the Lord,
Will forbid not soon.
So far the weapon here not under a ban –
Be not afraid, everything is all right in the world it!
Not terribly without weapon to a toothy barracuda –
Big and without weapon. Big – to us in a consolation.
And little people without weapon are not people,
All little people without weapon – a target.
Big thrash on elephants,
And me, and you – where to us
To joke such games!
Let big spheres
Big people are engaged:
One already played with “panthers”,
Others – will finish badly…
Tiny, new –
And to us the earth – a small pillow,
Blood liquid, marsh
Pulses in a temple,
Fingers sweaty become blue
On a trigger.
We, little people, on society a tear,
But if you take a detached view of us –
Behind narrow shoulders of the small person
There are dejectedly, gloomy silly women – two big wars.
“Kohl is silent and modest – will not kill” –
In total conjectures leisure:
At us not without reason sell
And here still the northeast blew –
The price was established similar,
At us, gratitude to the Lord,
The country is still free!
Ah, this life cheap
(As dust – blow and is not present!),
Piece, cheap –
Cheaper than cigarettes.
Also life eccentric woman is torn,
As a thin hair –
One pressing of a finger
On a trigger!
While purchase is easy, all of us are as it should be with you.
To us to take away life – how to spit: we were learned to be at war!
Around – and without war war, and with barehanded
Neither to threaten, nor to nail, nor to skyjack the plane!
There is neither devil, nor God him!.
And we to ourselves shoot, and
We touch nobody.
To firing, passion all colors,
All age are obedient:
And young and old alike, both that and that,
And… yellow, white, black.
Again sucks in the pit of the stomach,
More habitually already
Our world teems with losers
With hatchets in a hand
And boys with fingers
On a trigger
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