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love poetry

avec le coucher du soleil
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
il y a un pays complètement de vin
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi

 



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