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buena mujer
una tormenta está montando en la marea
ella debe ir detrás, ella dijo
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
este tazĂłn de fuente de plata antiguo el mĂ­os
nunca en toda mi vida
cuando usted viene esta noche
le cuento con
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
cuando el viento trabaja contra nosotros en la obscuridad
paredes y enorme altos
viejo vino a beber

 



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