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funeral poem

nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
debole-č traversata la canzone
non sia falso
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
siete bei e sbiaditi
ma alas, sogni giusti
ci situiamo
cosě perso
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
ci era uno strangeness sui vostri labbri
ombre alate che scopano vicino

 



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