Blues/“กŒดŠG—Žq
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chaps,
What are they doing
In such a spot like this?
They look terribly happy
Just like a bottomless barrel

In your own way,
Longing for the perfection
That will make you satisfied,
You must have been worn out
But
Donft expect only comfort of me
Because this house is not a brothel

Pl
[ŽŸ‚ฬƒy[ƒW]
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