Monday, May 18, 2009

Tobacco Verses by Maxim Zuzin


I’m stuck down here in the hell.
I do not tell that story well,
Because of boring and the pain.
Still, that’s not suffering, I feign.
I’m in the madhouse. Whether ain’t?
The walls just lack the yellow paint.
None’less I don’t feel me crazy,
Though do I shave with a common razor.
I’m not afraid of anything.
Due I am hoping for a ring,
That will I gift to my sweet lady,
To be f’r her beauty everlasting.
The list of paper is now ending,
I don’t want t’ feel myself a-pending.

Thoughts of freedom

I think of freedom very often.
It does make hard me and not soften.
I knew long ‘go I’d be here.
And, very young I did all leer
At such a crazy guy as me
Who found to be mad as free.
And, I did watch myself and see
That love and pleasure I’d be in.
That’s why I’m happy and all correct.
Not have the anguish as a fact.
I love my girls along the way.
And, find sense for them to lay
The flowers on my open palm
For me to execute, t’ be mum.


I yearn to have a harem
To be as an adult strongest ram.
But, you play harlots in the sense
That t’ see you virgin needs a lens
Because you’re really the maidens
And never ever spoiled b’ ravens
That seek an easy way t'approach
To get instead in a pack a cockroach,
Because they’re mine and lesbian
If not to reckon for them t’ be Persian
For me as a king to take their beauty
In taking bills to make them footy.


I strained my will to be all strong.
I bet that I all did it wrong
Because the flesh ruled by the law
It brings in soul a hard gore,
In that the grace is always needed.
And, anger is not for just feed it,
To be in wrath and in the broth
If the mom put on my neck a cross.


The sober verse is heavier and stranger,
In that it is not a flow of the conscience.
But, ponderous thinking on the future.
For those thoughts I now am mature.
For me the neutral position is fit.
I hope, see and know I’ll them meet.
My girls who live without me.
It’s maybe they’re only free.
I ask the pardon of the Lord
That fortified I wheel of fortune with a cord
Of dream and ideology against the common sense.
It is from the reality a hedge, a fence.
I really believe my girls are pure maids.
And, I fought off the sinners’ raids.
I’m happy if ‘t might be called this way
My heart pain gets the rise when I allay.


I put much value on the love.
But, still preferred I money.
No matter if it was by me invested for sweet honey.
I ‘preciate also th’ work and maybe pain.
I cannot lie, I cannot cheat in vain.
A man is ‘fraid of poverty of some young girl
Who does not have the liberty which money may affirm.
But, still, I work much t’ feet that much money.
For that, my girls do not like adultery as funny.
A woman said me once her wisdom
That so much I should put stake on
That she did not earn as much of cash
As to afford for her a fornication lash.


I should say honestly that I loved just rich girls.
Rich in the matter of reputation or money.
Those who may afford or not the furs.
They are all clever, beautiful and wonder be.
They may me judge the same way as do I.
Otherwise, it would be a lie
Because none I love their beauty and charm,
I want to feel myself as warm
In the spotlight of their Holy Ghost,
Just as little as for me to do most.
Due a man cannot live without love
Of a woman, the other way he’s shoved
From the fortune of this complex life.
By that knowledge I may take them more than five.

No hangover

I smoked tobacco by medicine order.
But, still, I’m of the same opinion it’s not former
That girls should have the money to be loved,
To subsidy them it’s always not over.
But, nonetheless, to be the king of my house,
I should pay them and take no coins,
If I decided for them to bear of my loins.
I should invest in them all life.
That’s what should b’ called a wife.
To have immunity I should work much.
And, never leave them in a lurch.
If I just want t’ be called a husband,
I’m to never them offend.
I know it and do not hide as ostrich
My head in sand of time, t’ be rich,
Because the women love the money.
It’s to give birth to kids, what’s it for.


I like to play chess.
It makes the Spirit come not less
To take off pawns and rooks.
That’s what my heart now brooks.
I able am to kill the men
The time when th’ law requires.
Instead, I love to take the pen
And make my chest all fires.
The flame of courage and valiance.
And, I do not turn senseless.
I earn so much for more of struggle,
To yank on myself and tug, will
Come to get of hell my girls
For them to live forever well.

Illegal items

I given was illegal items.
In this, there was a lot of sense.
And, I am calm all there hence.
It cost as little as one pence.
But, in the framework of the hell,
It was all up, I never fell.
I am happy ‘cause my father came.
And, I exchanged it not t’ be lame,
But dizzy and almost sure.
Tobacco always does allure
When breaks the bone medicine.
Who ever tried he knew the mean.
I am tobacco inspirited all way.
You do not hiss, you do not say,
If know not what was what
In this travelling of which I’ve got the lot.

Full belly

My belly’s full, I’m not a fool,
But, I’m a gadget and a tool
For hap’ness of those ‘nfortunate girls
For whom the hurricane, it hurls
My vessel of the war and piracy
Of that which’s public, no privacy.
I was all down but not out.
My girls do not their honor tout
To have the smell of caramels
For me they’re crystal wells
To make me fresh to strive for happiness.
For those, I am strong and fearless.
They are my girls and maidens.
In whose presence, my pride it fades.


She’s Inna but prefers t’ be called as Inga.
For her also smoked I ganja
To make her happy out of sad.
However, it made me rather mad
Because I’m wrathful at her former fate.
And, change the karma never’s late.
She loved me, I loved her.
And, say I that without any slur.
I don’t need no consigliere.
But, just an old madam fairy
To ask her how t’ make a pearl
Out of a piece of sand
By the status and title of an earl,
The baron with a lot of land.
Her fortune to be good, for it to mend
My girl whom Devil tried in hell to send.


The play of cards: aces,
Valets, dames and kings.
The scores, they have the meanings.
But, most influential way of cards
Is for a fortuneteller’s song of bards.
They put a king of clubs on my shoulder.
My boldness, it did not molder.
Instead, I took the curses with the bless.
It did not make my life bit less.
I knew that woman collected and sold information.
She did it for th’ security service formation.
She was not a crook, nor fake.
She told that my girls ‘d not drown in the lake.
I took her real daughter as my wife.
But, now, they are not for, even not five.

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