| You probably won't ask what's the trouble, probably this cold is forever.
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| Again blind weekdays pass us by.
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| And this city is like a telephone, calling me non-stop through a dream.
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| So what is happening at this hour.
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| The sky covers us with white powder
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| Snow on continents, islands, on compliments and words, about arguments and theories.
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| Snow fell on the capital and for a century, we will dream of this snow, in the most mysterious
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| stories.
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| And outside the window of the car and at home, counting down fluently, our romance.
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| Naively waiting for the finale, the clouds.
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| Every good fairy tale has a plot, and you guess whether it will or not.
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| I'm also interested, but for now.
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| The sky covers us with white powder, powder
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| Snow on continents, islands, on compliments and words, about arguments and theories.
|
| Snow fell on the capital and for a century, we will dream of this snow, in the most mysterious
|
| stories.
|
| Snow on continents, islands, on compliments and words.
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| He lay down on the capital and for a century, we will dream of this snow.
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| Snow on continents, islands, on compliments and words, about arguments and theories.
|
| Snow fell on the capital and for a century, we will dream of this snow, in the most mysterious
|
| stories. |