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He thought twice and left
like a strawberry his heart
always the same old story
with the relatives.

He left me some records in the closet
a silver watch and a samurai
everything detailed in a file.

And there he goes, part of the air
and there he goes in freedom

Music of crickets from the Paraná
every new January could be heard
like a good omen for the gossip.

He loved a star in his loneliness
and one night before Christmas
cut the cables