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christmas poems

den brennenden Gedanken kleiden
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese
er kam mich durch die Hand nehmen
als ich war, lief London ein
gaily durch die Felder tanzten wir
bleiben Sie nicht mehr
der Regen sein rüber und die leuchtende Luft
wickeln Sie die Masse im bewölkten Wetter auf
er erklärt von den guten alten Zeiten

 



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