Your lonely island, for spring clouds the air
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Don't stifle my dreams, soiling the space they created
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From packs and boxes, here it is, a voice woven from minor threads
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Footsteps step at midnight, my lighthouse sold itself
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I can't blame anyone, cursed robe with magic
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The ship does not see space, the whole background is gloomy
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The sum of drops was wet, anxiety was accumulating in the bag
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I was looking for myself tightly, in a moment I was a little confused
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Weather with a brush, a flower from the prince of the east
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Urban father to the origins, touched the silence of the pool
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Feeding a hard lesson, a house for a puff, a reproach
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Eye after eye with a word, becoming a fortified sediment
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In reports sewn and marked, boldly playing with marked
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A feat under a hollow canon, conceived with a root under the floor
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Blessing the districts, in the abyss of wells enchanted
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Having joined the bypass waters, the speech will shine on the waves
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In the shadow of the lamps to the windows, the painting of truths to the doorsteps
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See the light up to four, flattered by crafty streams
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Remember your nerves doctor, it's time not to sleep for someone
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Always writing something to them, changing the story, it's so easy |