.Ricordi sbocciavano le viole
con le nostre parole:
"non ci lasceremo mai,
mai e poi mai"
Vorrei dirti, ora, le stesse cose
ma come fan presto, amore,
ad appassire le rose
cos per noi.
L'amore che strappa i capelli
perduto ormai.
Non resta che qualche svogliata.
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