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■ The oak
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The language of music echoes the colour of a simple sound.
While its tap melodically paralyses each growing emotion And then, but only then... a guitar softly breathes two times at once. Would you still be amazed if it happened too much for others in a minute...? and inclined to guess the next flavour? They think about what they believe, but actually don’t understand ...and still, I’m even more charmed with each feather-like breath the wind takes. Whereas my mind is lured, eyes enchanted and heartbeats carefully broken loose. Tuesday, 09 October 2008 11:05:39
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