Untitled (with translation)

Ivan de Monbrison

они говорят на неизвестном языке.

Я живу в яйце из плоти.

на улице шея, а в руках тела голова.

на тарелке мозг, который я ем.

в стакане есть слова.

Я стреляю себе в рот.

но мое зло - насекомое.


в другом месте.

путь — змея.

твоя семья - вороны на этой ветке.

в стене есть дыра,

с другой стороны, мы трахаемся,

у женщины ноги раздвинуты,

у мужика маленький член.

Я закрываю окно, я теряю безумие,

и я теряю желание.



Иван де монбризон

They speak in an unknown language.

I live in an egg of flesh.

On the street is a neck,

and in the hands of the body is a head.

On the plate is a brain that I am eating.

There are words in the glass.

I shoot myself in the mouth.

But my evil is an insect.


In another place.

The path is a snake.

Your family are crows on this branch.

There’s a hole in the wall

On the other hand we fuck

The woman’s legs are spread,

The guy has a small dick.

I close the window, I lose my madness

And I lose my desire

Ivan de Monbrison is indeed a basket case. He actually enjoyed cutting off his own tongue recently in order to give it to the little fish of the nearby river. He has also lost his right leg in 1914 on the German Front, but found it back recently in perfect condition. He generously decided to donate this old bastard of a leg to a Delicatessen down the block, in exchange for small a bite of the owner 's wife tits.

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