Today Paris can wait. Again. I would say that I'm down anymore because they died Kutler, or, why not get used to it's dark at five o'clock. But just like me, not so much what you say.
Your love comes easy.
As the colors of trees
No anecdotes,
without recurrent methods.
Your love is a value set
living on my side.
Your love is the death bicycle
foretell it like an earthquake.
Your love:
shadow of memories. Aware
probably right, your love, I get easy
and sometimes silent.
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