.Abri as portas, pro vento circular>
Busquei deixar de ser, quem eu era
Segue a vida, respirei um novo ar>
Deixei as cinzas pelo chão, e a mente a clarear>
Alguém por nós sempre vai olhar>
Quando ela vem, não tem hora certa
Mas vai embora certa hora, sempre a se reciclar.
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