I know that one of this is the rocky dome who comes to my sky, a colored arc from the sea, the star -based mans generation when every minute of a second birthday The mirror of my room from the presence of my nymph Bud, Season Juan Tales From you Taliban Sunrise I died under my cold ash, your flame is
One must be here to make me more than me me more than myself, between my body The day. Here, the one who is not like anyone The time to sing is not like that
The opportunity for love! This voice is the death of the death Last season of sprouts, the season of leaf from you Taliban Tolo Sunset dies under my cold ash, your flame.
