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def poetry jam

je me demande où vous vivez
le pré rampait
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
dans le port de New York
mélancolie, bleu il était
et ils marchaient toujours dessus
ce qui nous fera maintenant
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
ma douleur, quand elle est ici avec moi
à partir du sud à la coupure du jour

 



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