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sad poem

a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
conseqüentemente eu não posso
em seus regimentals ásperos
moonlight profundo e macio
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
cai aqui nenhuma luz
a neve sussurra sobre mim
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
de nossos lugares escondidos
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
e meu nome é truthful
têm você ouvido

 



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