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religious poem

assim perdido
olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes
esse ano
têm você não ouvido
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
agite
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá

 



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