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rode-me para baixo pelo prado
as canções antigas
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
eu estou no amor com lugares far-seeing elevados
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
um pensamento doce solemn
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
antes do saint de bronze solemn
sadly falando

 



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