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lyric poem

je meurs
faites les garçons et les filles vont toujours
ils peuvent parler de l'amour dans une petite maison
ainsi tombé
près d'un champ en détresse
dans la terre silencieuse
ce qui nous fera maintenant
dernier minuit
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
sous la barre du guerrier
les jours hypocrites

 



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