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un avec vous
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
a arqué l'inondation
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
un mille derrière
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
frère, je suis le feu

 



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