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sábado, 6 de abril de 2013

Blues

I feel my blues
like an eagle with no land to rest
And I sing my blues
to believe I have a nest.

To believe is like to land,
a safety island in my thoughts.
Marry mother nature is my plan
but those trees are nothing but plots.


I feel my blues
like an eagle with no land to rest
And I sing my blues
to believe I have a nest.

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