A ticket

A ticket to a neutral city, further away from all this work nonsense. Two crazy people dropped everything and flew - the middle of the week. To hell with business! Thoughts about us. Thoughts of a rumpled bed. The silhouette of the night. Tattoos on your body and the smell of your delicate neck. We turn off the phone, and we can no longer be reached, and we close the hotel room. You and I are forgetting ourselves, this is not allowed - this is what we wildly wanted. Your lips ignite a wild fire in me, burning your body - I'm smoldering. My hands are buried in your hair, you and I are at our limit! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche. Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche. You have a lot of sex in you, baby! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche. August, 2025. It's a sluggish summer outside. An ocean of dirty sex (yes), and we love it so much! Baby - you're sweet, harmful (yes), when you're lying naked - I'm sticking specifically! I'm sticking to you specifically! You're a crazy beast (yes). I will never meet such a person again (yes)! Ash falls on my feet, strong tobacco is a light smoke, pungent! Where is our conscience? Where is she? Yes! She's not going anywhere! Hmm... baby, you're space- and I'm launching my rocket to you! Ah! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche. You have a lot of sex in you, baby! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche. Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche. Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche. Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche. A ticket to a neutral city, further away from all this work nonsense. Two crazy people dropped everything and flew - the middle of the week. To hell with business! Thoughts about us. Thoughts of a rumpled bed. Yes. The silhouette of the night. Tattoos on your body and the smell of your delicate neck. Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palehche. Yeah... hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palehche, yeah... you got a lot of sex in you, baby! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche. A ticket to a neutral city, further away from all this work nonsense. Two crazy people dropped everything and flew - the middle of the week. To hell with business! Thoughts about us. Thoughts of a rumpled bed. The silhouette of the night. Tattoos on your body and the smell of your delicate neck. We turn off the phone, and we can no longer be reached, and we close the hotel room. You and I are forgetting ourselves, this is not allowed - this is what we wildly wanted. Your lips ignite a wild fire in me, burning your body - I'm smoldering. My hands are buried in your hair, you and I are at our limit! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, Palekhche.