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memorial poem

f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
a escuridão rouba os formulários de todas as rainhas
eu quero saber onde você vive
quem é o corredor nos céus
sad são que sabem não o amor
eu vi a primeira pera
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
eu sou uma mulher
diga-me mais menos ou diga-me mais
alguns dias mais ventosos

 



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