Year of thirty, perhaps , come ,
black hat , Kudrevatykh ,
blouse with lace , it was fashionable ,
Beads black gloss front ,
A coat you elongate ,
photo I remember my grandmother ,
B were both such honey,
And in their hands you a white handbag
suddenly got out of the bag cell phone ,
search for something , click the button , And the gong , as an alarm clock ,
and shooting only lies ,
You are only one victory of truth ,
Sergei Momdzhi