Church of Christ's fishermen Apostles is found: Israel dig uncovers site of biblical village where Jesus's disciples Peter and Andrew were b

The comments in the link are so vile. Disgusting idiots.

Eh, the path is a path, a link, my accordion,
Look how the stars shine over the river.
The guys are dashing, the girls are firing,
Everyone will start talking vying.

Oh, Andrew, should we be sad?
Don't hide the accordion, play in all sorts of ways,
So play to make the mountains dance,
To make the green gardens rustle!

Sing, Andrew, so that in the middle of the night
The wind blew in, tugging at her curls.
Play to tender eyes
They looked at you without asking.

Eh, the path is a path, a closed window,
It won't work, the girl won't meet me,
A bitter word said chernobrova,
That there is no answering fire in the heart.

Oh, Andrew, should we be sad?
Don't hide the accordion, play in all sorts of ways,
So play to make the mountains dance,
To make the green gardens rustle!

Sing, Andrew, so that in the middle of the night
The wind blew in, tugging at her curls.
Play to tender eyes
They looked at you without asking.

Eh, the path is a path, a little more even.
The girl returned, smiling without melting:
"Hello, Andrew, I came to listen to you."
And my dear sang:

Sing, Andrew, so that in the middle of the night
The wind blew in, tugging at her curls.
Play to tender eyes
They looked at you without asking.
Play to tender eyes
They looked at you without asking.