It becomes so sad,
To look into your eyes.
And laying almost bad,
I see nonclear fires.
Fires of control love -
It's vanity of cash.
My sense as pretty dove
T'was burnt in severe flash.
Turn to me my happy,
Turn to me my rest,
I'm walking in the fog as elf,
Who's made an useless quest?
Run to me tomorrow
Run to me, i'm goal
You must find another way,
Trashing love control.
They buying only sex,
They fucking as young hen.
Allmighty money Rex
Has won all world of men.
My soul departed those,
I'm waiting you in time.
So nonbought love's my choice
It's forcing me to rhyme.
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