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famous poem

para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
antes do saint de bronze solemn
renove a visão do prazer
deve ir para trás, disse
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
diga-me
alguns dos hurts que você se curou
eu vi que você hunched e tiritando nas pedras
fraco-é voada a canção
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você

 



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