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epic poetry

erinnern sich Sie
drei Tage hörte ich sie, sich Sorgen zu machen, wann ich absolut lege
hatten er und i aber getroffen
alle jene Schätze, die liegen
die Luft ist wie ein Schmetterling
wenn ich sterbe, denken Sie nur dieses an mich
machen Sie sich nicht Sorgen, daß er rüber sein
traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag

 



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