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son poem

balançado no berço do profundo
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
e pão do breaketh mais
quando eu era um menino na faculdade
quando você vier hoje à noite
ido antes de nós
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
você é bonito e desvanecido
o prado estava rastejando
nobility da morte outra vez
diz de épocas velhas boas

 



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