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acima dos prados ricos com milho
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
quando liberdade de sua altura da montanha
você é meu companheiro
em e sobre
eu amei uma mulher
fraco-é voada a canção
lá pela janela na casa velha

 



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