a child’s lost in the desert
it’s so dusty in the desert
the child grew fond of the dust
dust flew into his eyes
and has taught him tears
so that he could now cry
and he washes his heart once in a while
a child’s lost in the desert
it’s so dusty in the desert
the child grew fond of the dust
dust flew into his eyes
and has taught him tears
so that he could now cry
and he washes his heart once in a while
« imperfect agony η γυναίκα που μιλούσε με το φόβο »











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