Крыша.avi

Forgetting Chekhov I go against the rules, In the kitchen with “belomorinoy “ per night of five times. The roof is gone, Address has not left, And I do not know where to look for it now. The gateway on the forehead hit Will be me, a sinner,: - Help, pigeons, The citizens of heart, If the roof will meet - I’m looking for it! And how I loved her From shingles to the rafters, From streams of smoke from the chimney to hay! I went with her an