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grandma poem

il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
portimi la canzone morbida
ho guardato sul cielo glorious
era l'autunno dell'anno
quando venite stasera
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
non sia arrabbiato con me
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
ombre alate che scopano vicino
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me

 



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