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■ The oak
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Sleep , baby , with your head on my dreams
Discharged by the fear of them uncoming true Time sent you to light up the stars In my soul , that is weeping wine Above the lips of your tears I rived the pages from the calendar And I covered with them all the mirrors The Earth is raining to the sky With me ... with you... With interlaced seas in the passing of time That is holding at its chest apple flower April hope painted in smiles The hours became numb of amaze And they gave us time , this spring That will never be found In no other biography
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