Elio E Le Storie Tese
Italian, Rum Casusu çikti
Being a Woman Today
You, five days of sadness and then you run towards life.
You, - me? - with your parachute, you throw yourself into the air and go - do you want to? -:
You land in your home garden, then you move around as confident and fresh as on a
spring morning.
In your bedroom there is a gentleman who operates the press of your little
cotton friends who cry for help, but he steals them and goes away. You cry and
chase your soft tender, soaking hairy pussy plugs.
And from today, you can also find your hairy pussy plugs in the
magnum pack of eighty pieces; his beautiful soft cigars.
But I would like to ask you a question: have you noticed that I am a little man? And
I'd like to ask you another question: do you have your period?
Shh. Sleep now. it's all over.
Protagonist of your time, protagonist of your sexuality.
Being a woman today, experiencing the wonder of your monthly cycle while showing off
confident.
Being a woman today, aspire to the role that history owes you: that of
nice, peaceful, unpredictable helmsman of a levy projected towards
the sea of u200bu200b2000 with the cry of Fuck, right away.
To be a woman today, no longer a shitter of children, but rather a sweet and stubborn shitter of
your children. Like Loretta Goggi in Freccia Nera, or in Cursed Spring
autonomous mind.
Woman, stronghold when the flow is more copious, saucy when it is the
chance or shag of a never tamed clitoris, crying out Hah ggh aaaa yesssss.
But I would like to ask you a question: have you noticed that I am a little man? And
I'd like to ask you another question: do you have your period?
Protagonist of your time, protagonist of your sexuality.
Protagonist of your time, protagonist of your sexuality.
Small women, big lips; little man big lips will appreciate.
I probably won't mate, but your fallopian trumpets I will sound.
Protagonist of your cotton würstel.

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