the cold hands and a heart of stone
moving through the bars, with a good friend is always there vodka
slumber in the pocket of the Gauloises wait, just waiting to be weggequalmt
the feeling in the stomach which is sad and addictive at the same time makes it
qüalt My thoughts
shimmering lights, the people laugh, cars honking
I am intoxicated in my own
nobody can him away from me
will drown the colder me, but the vodka makes my soul burn
I'm happy drunk
I am the magnet, the pole
I dress her all, all the party folk, that the Circle of Friends is
yes, I'm drunk and sober just as wonderful.
"and if it is evening in this exact color, then a hole in the air where you stood is" - I'm sorry, but my lies are true
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