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ich liebe, eine Weile weg zu stehlen
ich loathed Sie
hoch-getragenes Rennen
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
Kurzschluß und süsses und wir sind zum Ende von ihm gekommen
gestiegen von den Toten

 



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