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lyric poem

roses et or
l'air est comme un papillon
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
le poing serré simple soulevé et préparent
je sais pas où
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
j'ai entendu le vent toute la journée
de la chanson et du rêve pour jamais allé

 



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