.No sé por dónde empezar>El frÃo se cuela
Por cada grieta
Me encuentro indefensa
Quizás es la tierra mojada
Quizás es la sal en mi espalda
Quizás es el agua que emana, ay
Cuando me estremezca, dispárame
Yo nunca he jugado al azar>Y por más que lo intento
No puedo.
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