Теперь благодаря юзеру
Trier, trier, friggin shite
In the melancholy night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy Hitler simpathy?
In what distant deeps or skies
Gloved the former jewish eyes?
On what fon dare you aspire?
What the lars dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the naziness of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What had finally let you admit?
What's with the festival? What the hell?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the motive? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the Canness threw at you their spears,
And water'd heaven with your triers,
Did He smile their ban to see?
Did He who made you mumble this shit?
Trier, trier, friggin shite
In the melancholy night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy Hitler simpathy?
P.S. Да, я предлагал всем забить, а сам не забиваю. Вот такие у меня двойные стандарты со льдом.
А что делать, если они?!