This is the time when Mona Lisa got mustache.
I'm affraid that Venus the Milo wrings her hands.
Botticelli's muse, sad Simonetta, died in agony.
And no one is to take pity of The Young Ladies of Avignon.
This is another feministic song of price.
Maybe.
Are you bored with your freedom?
Are you sad because of no one came?
This is the time of pride.
And I'm sharing my knowledge with solidarity.
There is only one soul, and this is The Man.
No regret, no remorse, no pain and contradiction.
My world's rules are clear.
When everything is not perfect at least try to be OK.
M.A.N.
