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era un oysterman giovane alto
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
nelle mattine nube-grige
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà
portimi la canzone morbida
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
stuff della luna
quando ho esaminato i vostri occhi
quegli occhi neri i una volta così elogiato
dal mare scintillante
per venire così presto a questo ha immaginato l'oscurità
non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness

 



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