.Hay un acto de violencia
En la fria madrugada
Que no escapa en la conciencia
Del que pega sin razon.
Vuelan palos por el cielo
Y en el suelo buena gente
Que aterrada por el miedo
Va perdiendo el corazon.
Otra vez la misma historia
Y en las paginas de un diario
.
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