.Shurik'n:
Regarde ma terre en pleure
Mais les choses ici prennent une telle ampleur>
Les fils partent avant les p?res, y a trop de m?res en sueur>
Quand les fusils de la b?tise chantent le m?me air en c?ur>
Le mangeur d'?me ? chaque repas s'abreuve de nos ranc?urs
Je l'ente.
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