Pesma nas je održala

Sunce piči snega nigde
malog Vuka more brige,
moli Boga i HAARP Sveti
da zabeli čak i leti.
Smetovima snežnim preti,
Feketića ti se seti.
Helikopter, grtalice 
ozari se napućeno lice,
na mesnate usne i Labelo
ne’š ih sjebat govno belo.
Od ladnoće puca kamen a i drva,
blješte usne PPV-a.

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