.Jeg drømte det var i mitt tolvte år>Da stjernene sluttet å rope
Ble halvmånen skjult bak en stripet sky
Og steinene sang rundt hver snømann:
Ingen tør røpe fargen på blod
Huden din tør ikke pipe
Mot slakterhuset der kyrne slo
Tom melk i en månestripe
Jeg drømte.
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