So, ladies and gentlemen, let's get down to business. In the face of the new trend in music, the rubbish of Bach, Stellakis, Perpiniadis, Iron Maiden, and Karvelas pales into insignificance. Lyrics that are sharp, born of blood, tears, and sweat, but not in the Sakis edition, but in Snik. The new Bible of the man of the streets, the karabouzouk player, who alone knows how to sing of the sufferings of the poor. Because those who are real men spend their lives in Ferraris.
The continuation, kindly sponsored by Radio Arvyla.
