***

Хладнокровный Головорез: литературный дневник

Born in a slum in Rome
Born in filth and rags
You climb the weary road of youth
Alone and often sad


You climb the hills your feet get sore
And then your heart goes numb
And as you reach your teenage years
A whore you do become


And as I see you
My eyes fill with tears
It’s the same old story
It’s been going on for years



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