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teen poetry

penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
osservi fuori sulle stelle, il mio amore
prima del san bronze solenne
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
potremmo ma sapere
come le aquile sul high alto
quindi non posso
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi

 



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