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sad poem

la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
ese compañero extraño vino en mezclar pies
pharaoh, rey de la tierra de Egipto
cuando era un muchacho en la universidad
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
cuando usted viene esta noche
el amor se ha cantado mil maneras
las sombras ponen a lo largo de broadway
vea, ellos vuelven
ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
antes del santo de bronce solemne

 



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