I will not build on fear
We will see in the moment
How the pain behaves
We have to go away whistling
A festive air , an old air of change
Rotten fruit in the header
All consumed down to the socks
Come on
I'll leave my nails
In the doors and my cancers
When I come home I even forget what I look like
Tell you here how funny it is
To lose in fact the memory
Taking out the rotten fruit in the header
All consumed down to the socks
high   the sling

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