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il est allé
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
le corps peut confiner
fleurs des bébés
elle boite avec stopper le pas douloureux
enveloppez la terre par temps nuageux
pharaoh, roi de la terre de l'Egypte
glooms des vivre-chęnes

 



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