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retirement poem

unsere angenehmen Momente fliegen
Dame, Ihr Herz hat an Staub gewendet
geben Sie mir Hunger
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
jene schwarzen Augen I einmal so gepriesen
gibt es jedes dort
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
welches ich erwähnen möchte
mit dem Sonnenuntergang
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
folglich kann ich nicht
drei Tage hörte ich sie, sich Sorgen zu machen, wann ich absolut lege
wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er

 



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