You just write on the book.
That's the far-off the river
The people who are all crowded
Sky's bottom;
That's the day night
All right, all right, all we got here
They're Ravi
You're not true man like them.
Hi, you're just a photo.
Why do you feel calm down in the bush?
Follow the passengers
They're not the way.
Why is that night?
Everyone's gonna be so far away
At the end of stability.
This dust
Pick up gray.
Heading up the wind;
Ravi's axe's is open
Back in the form of a tru man
Written in the organ
The spring union
This dust also lies true;
This green.
Line on the world's altitude.
They're so awful, so they're all true--
You're steady, you're a dark photo,
You're just pictures.
One day, you'd be on this way
Born to breath;
The organs are a living organ.
How many songs will you dance?
It is Coming.
Your rhinocero nob
Leaving them around the world;
How long he was.
In this life
I'm in my mind
That's true
Down in the moo's eye.
You wrote it on the way.
Pick up Ross's chick.
That morning you were the one
The message of this world is a statue.
To go the way together
Behind the Nights
I'll stop you.
Then I'm after that
How sad.
I'm on the way to the front
It's a tide-knife
Sky-milkyway;
Down on the way
The flowers are silent
It was loud
Little life-standing at the millennium.
Life in the death.
Unknown.
I left the distance--
I love the way.
You're gonna be the way
Where you stood
You're still there.
The green, the dust-- those, the Shirby-ravi
Behind everyone.
You're photo, you're just pictures
What a rattle call
You picture?
No, not just photos
Who says you're a fixed line
The blast.
Dead die, she would have stopped
This river
Beach waves,
This cloud
The wire is his gold writing.
Your hike
If it were to be a shadow of the chiku world
Well, I'm not sure
When
Lillai in the lote of the canal
A shadow-mouth shade in the forest
The soil.
Forget what I've gone.
The one you took is the root of your life
That's wrong.
In the blind way, don't forget what flowers.
Do they forget
Yet they are
Lovely breath.
The wrong vacuum is filled with a sound
Not to forget, he's forgotten;
Boss has blown out the blood that's Dola
You're not in the front of the eyes,
Between the eyes;
That's right
Shamlow in the Shamlow, blue
My disappearance
You got it in his heart.
I know, somebody knows.
But the music is a song;
You're poet's heart.
No photo, no photo, no, not just photos.
Where did I get you at the morning?
I lost the night
You're in the dark after that.
No photo, you're not.
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