il fiato lei e la divina, ormai restaurata ogni rivista buttata e una pista tracciata i bagni nel miele, la lampada uva, la pelle stirata, comparse
I'd be a dead man hanging around, If it weren't for my pals in this town. C-ron-c-ron-c-ron-c-ron-c-ron-cronies. I'd wouldn't go down to the joint, There