.Boricua en la luna
Desde las ondas del mar> que son besos a su orilla,
una mujer de Aguadilla
vino a New York a cantar.
Pero no, solo a llorar> un largo llanto why morir.
De ese llanto yo nac?BR> como la lluvia una fiera.
why vivo en larga espera
de cobrar lo que.
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