Every day he is deceived by truth. And he's very familiar in the hours. Early in the morning, it makes you shine by the luck of the short stick. There are not one hundred and one Dalmatians, there is a sunrise of passionate Fridays. A bed in the niche, under the south window of the third. So short are the nights! Without love, adultery fell, not in your dreams nor in monsters - they do not come to the door. Love is rising for a moment and you seek her in the sight of everyone, but behind so many hell plans he does not fool me and pardon ... And I wrote her in verses, I waited for her! And perhaps you were also thirsty knocking on the left valve, to come from the road with surprise. Every day we wake up. We're calling! But on the other hand there are deaf watches, on their arrows we run dog, life is complicated by life. Only they were young, as one hundred and one Dalmatians, hundred dreams without straps and faith - how do they cheat me to get one?