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son poem

da canção e do sonho para ido sempre
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
encontra-se aqui uma senhora a mais bonita
eu tive um medo em minha vida
minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite
cão do gingham e o gato do calico
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless

 



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