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teenage love poem

gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
chi ama la pioggia
conosce un rilascio poco costoso
alcuni dei hurts che avete curato
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
siete chiari

 



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