Несицилианская защита
Twasn't fight, bro.
Twasn't fire.
U've said I answered
And that is all.
Turn off the light, storm,
Turn off desire,
That will be after, so long.
U're too eager to hear, to listen,
To smile, to chat, to laugh, to try.
Without sense of any reason
But however twas not a season.
What have it been to watch me crying.
Dance, dance from here,
Ure not super, not even god.
A little step without staring,
Come on come on come on.
Try an effort.
Don't touch my wing, o more, somewhat,
'cause I'm flying, flying, flying...
And flight is hot.