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        Alice asked me once in Aupark: whether I saw "Don't take the princess" - it was right
after: when I said (I don't know: how many times I did it before) :with strong juice: I don't
like Dežo: it's over-speculated shit: and: the music is supposed to be beautiful         (the
pleasure is: to separate self from others loudly: so obviously: the dicks:  because why else:
would they be there on the other side) :but no? :I saw it: I said - and:  I was instantly and
suddenly: in my lovely judgment - cloven and off track      - because the music is beautiful:
detailed: oboe and drumsticks - who would have said that.
       But I have definitely felt a strong need since then:     to rework this Dežo's crooked
image:  which I acquired by excerpts from the radio (for example: Mr. Štrpka has already made
an impression: Plains: southwest and the death of a normal healthy boy) I have such a need to
follow the childhood experience
       :And so: in the end: I also found some my Dežo:    besides the beutiful old children's
songs (usually: to poor children: are given primitive melodies and stupid grammatical rhymes)
simply: I've heard it all: and most of it's still not for me - in terms of music:    my first
impression rarely misleads me - although actually: the first impression comes from Miro:  how
beautiful there: he confesses the love of Marika Gombitova in the window   
       The man had beautiful music inside. Undoubtedly   :but albums of his non-singing songs
are too depressing for me and without romance
       Maybe he is just such a socialist hero: the living messiah of socialist realism:    an
unbearable artist for his himself  - a genius in conflict with a bizarre labour plutocracy  -
tongue cancer - what kind of living water for the styling mills of ethicotherapy:   and: then
you have to look at that beautiful woman: when she runs between the most beautiful tunes

       Golden Lip: I love that one: but one is enough.
       Dežo Ursiny: