I wrote hundreds poems for you
And I'm ready to write more and more
Tender words gathered in my soul
How many migrants were in Poland before
How many songs and letters
How many women are beautiful
I only want to be better
To love so much is unusual
At the doctors appointment they said
-Your ears are covered on sucrose
I don't know what to do, I don't know how to live
I don't want to be too verbose
You're like the roar of pricey cars
For me there is no better motor
You're the luxury of my silly life
Only scratch and you bleed Dior