ﺷﺮﺍﺏ ﺧﻮﺍﺳﺘﻢ...
ﮔﻔﺖ : " ﻣﻤﻨﻮﻉ ﺍﺳﺖ "
ﺁﻏﻮﺵ ﺧﻮﺍﺳﺘﻢ...
ﮔﻔﺖ : " ﻣﻤﻨﻮﻉ ﺍﺳﺖ"
ﺑﻮﺳﻪ ﺧﻮﺍﺳﺘﻢ...
ﮔﻔﺖ : " ﻣﻤﻨﻮﻉ ﺍﺳﺖ "
ﻧﮕﺎﻩ ﺧﻮﺍﺳﺘﻢ...
ﮔﻔﺖ: " ﻣﻤﻨﻮﻉ ﺍﺳﺖ "
ﻧﻔﺲ ﺧﻮﺍﺳﺘﻢ...
ﮔﻔﺖ : " ﻣﻤﻨﻮﻉ ﺍﺳﺖ "
...
ﺣﺎﻻ ﺍﺯ ﭘﺲ ﺁﻥ ﻫﻤﻪ ﺳﺎﻝ ﺩﯾﮑﺘﺎﺗﻮﺭﯼ ﻋﺎﺷﻘﺎﻧﻪ ،
ﺑﺎ ﯾﮏ ﺑﻄﺮﯼ ﭘﺮ ﺍﺯ ﮔﻼﺏ ،
ﺁﻣﺪﻩ ﺑﺮ ﺳﺮ ﺧﺎﮐﻢ ﻭ ﺑﻪ ﺁﻏﻮﺵ ﻣﯽ ﮐﺸﺪ ﺑﺎ ﻫﺮ ﭼﻪ ﺑﻮﺳﻪ ،...