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lyric poetry

eighty anos passaram, e mais
deixe-nos plantar
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
quietamente, com reverance, no awe
fala não bem
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
poderíamos nós mas para saber
dê-me a fome
e meu nome é truthful

 



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