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eu não queimo nenhum incense
o que nós fará agora
era muitas e muito um ano há
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
como ela
eu ando abaixo os trajetos do jardim
teria mesmo seu gracejo
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
eu tenho que dizer good-night
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
prazeres mid e palácios embora nós podemos vaguear
bonito

 



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