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father poem

orage
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin
je descends les chemins de jardin
si j'étais très sûr
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
le jour est fait
simplement parlant
ne tournez pas votre tête
je vous chante
quand vous venez ce soir
seule

 



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