Wath me wallowing in gutter
And falling in this heartless storm.
This song, that made me better
That made me safe and made me warm.
It all were lost in far foeve
And so you made me put on frown
So you believed we'll neve sever
And what is now, Pierrot the Clown?
This bitterswet in kind of rage
That made me shivering in sorrow
How dissapeared you in cage
How dissapeared from tomorrow.
So, wath me wallowing in gutter
And falling down for your new leap.
I'll pomice, sweetheart, make it better,
I'll promice bte to blood your lip.



P.S. Спасибо моему обожаемому Молксу за непомерное вдохновение и то восхищение и трепет, оторые он у меня вызывает.