Dar-me a fome, O voc os deuses que sentam e do ao mundo suas ordens. Dar-me a fome, dor e querer-me, fechar para fora com shame e a falha de suas portas do ouro e da fama, d-me sua fome mais shabbiest, mais weariest!
Mas deixar-me pouco amor, voz de A para falar-me na extremidade do dia, mo de A para tocar em me no quarto escuro que quebra o loneliness longo. No dusk de dia-d forma a borrar o por do sol, um pouco vaguear, estrela ocidental empurrada para fora das costas em mudana da sombra. Deixar-me ir janela, o relgio l dia-d forma do dusk e espera e sabe a vinda de pouco amor.
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