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são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
qual se mantem
cai aqui nenhuma luz
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
eu sou velho e cego
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
pouco parque que eu passo completamente
tudo dentro e tudo sem mim
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma

 



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