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romantic poem

roulez-moi vers le bas par le pré
le pré rampait
la nuit était noire et triste
un orage monte sur la marée
dites-moi pas
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
doux comme lit dans la terre
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
et ils marchaient toujours dessus

 



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