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sad poetry

c'était l'automne de l'année
je sais pas où
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
dans votre vol
la noblesse de la mort encore
le soleil est vers le haut
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
faites les garçons et les filles vont toujours
prenez mes bracelets
apportez-moi la chanson douce
dans toutes les choses non parlées de

 



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