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sad death poem

o doce com fern e levantou-se
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
e pĂŁo do breaketh mais
diga-me mais menos ou diga-me mais

 



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