| You are almost always like this! |
| I'm not afraid to offend you.
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| You will calm down in two seconds and again
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| You start driving me crazy.
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| Life will not be easy; on the contrary, it will be very difficult.
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| I break my hands on the walls
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| For a year in a row you stupidly fuck my nerves.
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| You are like the jazz of a hackneyed system,
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| Where a powder-clogged brain does not create a problem.
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| My sweet angel with the character of a bitch,
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| I often withdraw from my past dreams.
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| It was childhood, where schemes burned for the first time,
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| And the boy steals flowers from the counter to the girl.
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| Writes poetry about something more than you can understand.
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| In his eyes, your soul is a flash of heavenly shades.
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| He leaves a part of himself on notebook sheets,
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| So as not to forget for a second about important points.
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| From that smile that beckons like stars.
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| He seriously brought the whole world into your eyes,
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| When I wiped your tears so gently with my palm,
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| He was imbued with your pain and sat in tears.
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| The hands on the clock were running, he forgot about the time,
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| Then I fell asleep so sweetly in your hair.
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| You left every time, not believing in his love,
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| Leaving a fresh trace of their spirits on the sheets.
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| The hands on the clock were running, time was sand through your fingers,
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| He had dreams of you spinning in that slow waltz.
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| You are in that black dress, with a bracelet on your wrist,
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| He calls this evening Happiness. |