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«Pieces of us die everyday
As though our flesh were hell
Such injustice, as children we are told
That from God we fell.
Where are my angels?
Where's my golden one?
Where's my hope
now that my heroes have gone?»
(Jewel, Amen)
ut pictura poesis
«Pieces of us die everyday
As though our flesh were hell
Such injustice, as children we are told
That from God we fell.
Where are my angels?
Where's my golden one?
Where's my hope
now that my heroes have gone?»
(Jewel, Amen)
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