Тихая музыка для сна

You're wrapped in the starlight Of my skin In deep rinchin'. It feels like we're dreaming our feltch and Feltage Into being flesh. It's something we can find and didn't know. I want to make it out of Fucking gold. And the great Beacon. The felt is with darkness. It, it, it up In the biscuit. Fallen into figment, Cotton kosher pepper comes up Stemless. And we're nesting in the starlight, In the dreams behind the spotlight. A pre-dawn to meet the equation of immigration, Of immigration,