My husband returned at Christmas.
Drunk and smoked.
Fatigue and tiredness on the face.
Butter on Eggs.
There is no foreign key.
wallets and lights.
and wife: ' Did he go to the crazy?'
'No, the collars sang to people!'
At Christmas, my wife came back.
As if the sun smiled.
All the red on the face.
in a new shirt of a singer,
Turn the key from the foreigner.
Gifts in the baggage.
How do you're from? I was fucking!and'
' No to my family It was'