This song is beautiful. Made known to me these days my godmother negrospírituals, a hippie goddess who lives in Mar del Plata and
know me very well.
You, who filled all my joy and youth
and see ghosts in the night against the light and hear a song
scented blue
go of me.
Do not stop to look
dead branches of roses that wither
without flower looks
the landscape of love is the reason to dream and love.
I've already fought against all the evil I have
as disposable hand grip,
neither can you hold ...
go of me.
I'll be in your life the best of the mist
yesterday when I get to forget
as
best verse that we can not remember.
Santa potato, which letter!
Ellipses ...
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