.Saiam luas, desçam rios
Virem páginas dos pensamentos
Lanço estrelas do meu canto
Sobre as camas dos apartamentos
Virem mares todos os sertões
Que choram pedras aqui
Dentro
Pra esse fogo que queima tão lento
Vento, vento, vento
Aos cantores nos televisores
Flores, .
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