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grandma poem

há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
última meia-noite
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
eu olhei em cima do céu glorious
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
cão do gingham e o gato do calico
de nossos lugares escondidos
a luz retirada
trançado e tecido
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente

 



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