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kid poem

ci è un paese in pieno di vino
un miglio dietro
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
penso spesso alla città bella
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
uomo freddo severo
diami la fame
è aumentato e l'ambra era il tramonto sul fiume
al lato di un campo raso
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
babylon -- dove vado sognare

 



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