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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2008-03-26 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
summer almost gone
leaves already golden casting shadows over the bodies burnt by sun and vodka we are leaving alleys guarded by rusty angels in the gloomy provincial town your hand over the eyes suspiciously watching scarlet horizons whilst scattered streets motorcycles and rockers are slowly transferring into an apparently malefic Middle Age towards the single platform station chill under our skins tempting to awake us a coffee would be perfect in one of the underground taverns but the French district is closed as white and terrible bugs invaded it one night before like in a bad horror movie down in a waterhole our pale faces- a wedding picture in the warm light of the lanterns
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