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grandma poem

gaily através dos campos nós dançamos
os céus que eram ashen e sober
a noite era preta e drear
onde deva mim encontre-o
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
em seus regimentals ásperos
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
eu tenho que dizer good-night
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
no porto de york novo
e meu nome é truthful

 



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