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si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
remplacez la vision du plaisir
allé avant nous
elle doit retourner, elle a dit
dans pouvez
je réside ŕ la montagne de table
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent
sommeil, frčre gris de la mort
nous qui se sont tenus
elle a éclaté le vin féroce

 



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