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mom poem

ruédeme abajo por el prado
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
usted está claro
asustado no más, digo
los pasillos de mármol resounding largos
el prado se arrastraba
amé a mujer
la señora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo
en pueda
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana
llevo a cabo su corazón

 



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