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Handmade18 grudnia 2012
You walk where the golden-brown grass rustles
You walk where the grass
rustle golden-brown in the wind,
and sometimes you take a shortcut through the cornfield,
sometimes it’s at the marsh where I find you,
where you smile shyly.
18 grudnia 2012
You walk where the grass
rustle golden-brown in the wind,
and sometimes you take a shortcut through the cornfield,
sometimes it’s at the marsh where I find you,
where you smile shyly.
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