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The destructive melody.
l recall that first day of the olden.
The first hours of a golden morning.
I saw your face in the garden.
my heart started singing.
a melody of naive souls.
a song that bleeds on the rest.
my...
The first hours of a golden morning.
I saw your face in the garden.
my heart started singing.
a melody of naive souls.
a song that bleeds on the rest.
my...
