название:
автор:
A Stiff Tells
автор:
Gemmik
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aitsu wa eki isan aitsuu dorai ku isou wasure ba de ita dete wa hoemi koi desu demo iru sachi wo oriwa dazai tose aku itsu demo aruiwa fumi datou live as filth waga an bakari beru ni furi bou resu karantsu shou sendaru kumi arue nakuri as filth waga an bakari beru ni furi bou aryuu hi ume senda arue nakuri as filth through this airain in chau o sae no in chau omae no e tsuku ke to sachi ai sakuretsu in no made rifuto yohan chuurei koi desu demo iru sachi wo oriwa dazai tose aku itsu demo arui wa fumi datou waga an bakari beru ni furi bou resu karantsu shou sendaru kumi arue nakuri as filth waga an bakari beru ni furi bou resu karantsu shou sendaru kumi arue nakuri as filth waga an bakari beru ni furi bou aryuu hi ume senda arue nakuri as filth through this sadaka boku a meko zero yuretai no isao dakishi ansou raakii to moete [bad word] iru rifuto wo sakusuru moe rinnai futaride aryu hi ume douka aa furi inest incest incest English That guy, sorrow with the bereived, in a phase of dry anguish and bad fortune. By then, he stayed, left carelessly coming out with a smile. But, is living as a request. Even if, the only thing this, cage sinking into sin, was good luck. Possibly, a distasteful defeat at anytime. live as filth At the bell, there's only my hermitage, the person who is rainfall. It can be howling as filth; there can't be less than a current's concubine. At the bell, there's only my hermitage, the person who is rainfall. It can be through this as filth, a bad second through a great low Wasn't the reason in my sight, the small dice? He haunts your abnormal fate with a good luck indigo explosion until the factor's night watch, the loyal dead But, is living as a request. Even if, the only thing this, cage sinking into sin, was good luck. Possibly, a distasteful defeat at anytime. At the bell, there's only my hermitage, the person who is rainfall. It can be howling as filth; there can't be less than a current's concubine. At the bell, there's only my hermitage, the person who is rainfall. It can be howling as filth; there can't be less than a current's concubine. At the bell, there's only my hermitage, the person who is rainfall. It can be through this as filth, a bad second through a great low Sure, no [bad word] wants to sway me, to hold, lucky with a crush, casting an amorous glance, living slandering. I make a plot using the rift, the two of us inside what looks like the forest, pleading for rainfall, a bad second through a great low. Inest, incest, incest.
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