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grandmother poem

geschaukelt in die Aufnahmevorrichtung vom tiefen
Bruder, bin ich Feuer
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
ich verachte meine Freunde mehr als Sie
nicht von der breiten Welt des Ganzen
lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
gloom
ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
meine Seele geht in den gorgeous Sachen plattiert

 



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