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mom poem

gegangen vor uns
wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
ich bin in das Ă–dland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
warum
alle beruhigen entlang dem potomac
Melancholie, Blau war sie
tat Sie sehen ĂĽberhaupt ein Krokodil
ich erwarte Sie
herauf von die Wiesen reich mit Mais
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen
voll von den Rissen

 



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