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break up poem

flores dos bebês
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
o prado estava rastejando
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
meu amor verdadeiro de seu descanso levantou-se
pouco parque que eu passo completamente
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
baixo! ' tis um a noite do gala
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro

 



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