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angel poem

nel vostro volo
non eravamo molti
vecchio vino da bere
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
ho visto le stelle più fiere
un miglio dietro
non ci è fuga dal fiume
conosco che cosa state andando dire
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
fra le montagne ho vagato

 



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