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why am i so lovely? because my master washes me. - bosse-de-nage lyrics

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at twilight, those who play in the water touch the moon on its waves. in bed, those who lay on the covers hallucinate their existence. a conversation with the slave who fought to save the work from a fire. at midnight, those who play in the dust grasp the wind by its hair. in emptiness, those who die drain their bodies into a bowl left beside the bed. at dawn, the tree that still grows gropes the world with its leaves

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