Conspiracy of grief
This conspiracy of grief for the dead saves. You have him and myself can read and loved her, that grief can not be cured.
Bake the pancakes, but their good prozharte, even a little foothills. Conspiracy so read three times:
How, sir, blinok, no better than you, and then you forget in a furnace. So forget the servant of God (name), your (name). I beg you, dear Mother of God, help me. Be my slanders, and lepche stronger, firmer vostro damask knife. Amen, Amen, Amen.
Pancakes should eat one who maetsya anguish.
