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lyric poetry

meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
quando você vier hoje à noite
sabe uma liberação barata
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
deixe-me ser sad
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies
as canções velhas
no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
na esfera

 



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