Curving Shore is gone for good.
Ancient oaks left no root.
Using oak for the parquet
is ok.

Nonetheless a gang of guys
Didn’t want to be too nice.
They made coffins from green oaks.
Us it shocks.

Home’s beautiful it says
When on chicken feet it stands.
But a crackhead came to place
as an ace.

He was handsome all in all,
With a witch danced rock & roll.
They had everything they want.
Place got burnt.

Go, go, sadness,
out of my chest.
This is not a story yet.
It is just a test.

That’s correct what Pushkin said.
There was a savant cat.
But his end was so frustrat–
ingly sad.

As a wise guy - that’s no bluff -
A gold chain he sold and stuff
And, as never being dumb,
bought some rum.

With his such a godly gift
In a business he was swift.
But he later got so drunk
like a punk.

Running out of the luck
He then caught a heart attack.
And his corpse is in a grave.
All rights waived.

Go, go, sadness,
out of my chest.
This is not a story yet.
It is just a test.

There were 33
knights of Russia on a spree.
They decided to create
a decree.

Everyone assigned himself
Land, accumulated wealth,
Then began to drink again
to the health.

Their uncle cut an oak
And tree bark put on a lock.
Then he barked on own kin
like a dog.

And he cursed them every day
For the money outlay
Even though he got a lot
all the way.

Go, go, sadness,
out of my chest.
This is not a story yet.
It is just a test.

And a mermaid - what a freak! -
Learned to do a well-tried trick.
And once - what can be worse? -
gave a birth.

Everybody in a line
swears: “He cannot be mine.”
So, they called an army son
that one.

And a sorcerer once
Picked a mermaid for a dance.
And he offered her his heart.
Ain’t it art?

Then he promised in a tweet
That he’ll take her with a kid.
And she’s with an older male
like in jail.

Go, go, sadness,
out of my chest.
This is not a story yet.
It is just a test.

And that bearded Black Sea Man
Stole a Venus in a van.
He is devious so much.
Thanks a bunch.

This is not an idle lie
That he’s capable to fly.
He’s a skillful S.O.B.
Let it be.

Someone with no brain
sold a carpet airplane.
Folks are knocking on the door
of a store.

Jesus, women are kidnaped.
In a pitfall they are trapped.
How fair sex gets saved
from a cave?

Go, go, sadness,
out of my chest.
This is not a story yet.
It is just a test.

It’s impossible to stand
An emerging foul trend.
Yea wood goblins fight within.
What a scene.

For the money for a drink
They would pawn a wedding ring.
Life is hard for everyone.
What’s the plan?

Every goblin begs a wife:
“I just wanna back my life.
I am thirsty very much.
Light a match.

Give few rubles or greenbacks.
Otherwise, I’ll take an ax.
I’ll be sorry not too much.
Just a touch.”

Go, go, sadness,
out of my chest.
This is not a story yet.
It is just a test.

Where’re animals unseen?
Where’s that two-headed twin?
It appears that they rest
on a crest.

It’s no secret nowadays
Curving Shore left no trace.
What the poet wrote in past
didn’t last.

Go, go, anguish,
out of my chest
Since a real fairytale’s
definitely best.