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havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
todos quiet ao longo do potomac
ao lado de um campo stricken
eu fui acima e trago as ruas
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
os dias melancólicos vieram
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
não se aflija que sobre

 



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