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cowboy poetry

wer der Läufer in den Himmeln ist
Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nüchtern
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
sie kennt eine preiswerte Freigabe
ich loathed Sie
eine Feder des Stahls
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen

 



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