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romantic poem

a agonia de ter demasiado poder
flores dos bebês
mas alas, sonhos justos
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
a noite era preta e drear
não esteja irritado com mim
eu sei não onde
a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música
há um país completamente do vinho
há qualquer um lá
rosas e ouro
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
fala não bem

 



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