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kid poem

vinho velho a beber
deixe-me ser sad
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
faça exame de meus bracelets
doubtless eu recordo ainda
completamente dos rasgos
eu sou fevered
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
a noite era preta e drear

 



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