слушаю этот заедливый CRUCI-FICTION и пытаюсь вспомнить как находится производная от логарифма...


Look from London bridge down
and the Thames seems blood
with black roses on it...

Black wind blows to eyes
and i've never been so sure
Show me my disguise
and i'll try to make it pure
madness covers mind
but the dream begins so clear
no one needs to mind
black suicide,there's nothing left to fear
(black suicide/cruci-fiction)