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em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
calma como que segundo verăo
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
năo gire sua cabeça
para a verdade, para o amor
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
eu despise meus amigos mais do que vocę
na obscuridade e na paz de minha cama final
deus
flores dos bebęs
eu năo pray para a paz

 



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