It is devoted to hippopotamuses
The light blue room is covered with gentle lilac light. In a light blue room sounds magic brightly - yellow music . The persevering lilac wind is knocked on magic dark blue windows... I know... I know - a miracle do not happen. The hippopotamus will not come. My dreams of the hippopotamus in own juice, about фрикасе from the hippopotamus, cutlets from the hippopotamus, pel'menis from the hippopotamus cried. Trust after that to hippopotamuses! Lonely tear slowly slips on a cheek.
In a light blue room sounds magic brightly - yellow music. The hippopotamus will not come. All is vain! Dreams are vain! I open hateful canned food, нарезаю bread big thick pieces, I look in magic dark blue windows, I sigh. And can? And suddenly? Well, it happens in fairy tales! When, well here, apparently, well - all! And - here! And? Well, it happens!
But - is not present! All is vain, dreams are vain. The hippopotamus has not come. Probably, something has felt. Vainly yesterday I have looked at him the big shining eyes and has licked to itself lips.
In a light blue room sounds magic brightly - yellow music. In corners shadows dance magic brightly - green. All is vain, dreams are vain. The hippopotamus will not come. About, a trouble to me! About, I unfortunate!.. Phone Calls. I am broken from a place, to running and I think: And suddenly? And can? And suddenly it - he? Now will apologize and will tell: I love you, baby!