You're pretty, my goro,
You smell like youth,
d But you dwell in our hearts d
only sorrow and pity:
Who once looks at you,
He's always grieving,
You can't go under yours.
d shadows to wear out d
d But when it comes to need d
Let him leave you now,
He can't, until he's alive,
to get you laid.
Lyuben Karavelov
Temporarily out of stock