.Al salir del Metropol,
Ibamos a un bar,
Para hablar como mayores,
Del futuro...
Era un tema manso, sin apuros
Y el futuro, enorme, a que apurar,
A que apurar?
Alli, dichosos, nos dejabamos estar,
Todo era diáfano, fácil, seguro,
Cuando en su universo,<.>
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