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■ Les saisons
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The mother of my intellectual child drown in the river,
I lost all the connections with the tsar and the murderers, This poem will become an intellectual rape, Proving that metaphysical feelings are just useless, Etcetera is precious in every school book, Not that I read any, or go to school, Silhouettes reflected in the window of the dancing room, I feel like I would trash any notion in the human brain, Just to scare the teachers and the geeks, Wake up insanity, there is so much freedom outside!
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