I miss

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Every night is very long
You are incarnate as the root of
sausage Touches the tip of my head
Enter into the gray mind

Every morning I wake up short
You are transformed into a bird's chirp
Greet the sweet under the shady tree That cursed at you will

Do not you feel that I miss
See your face or your smile
Because the body and the heart are separated
And I can not destroy the distance of power

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