lluvia de balas

lluvia de balas

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Dec 7, 2019
Sunday is gloomy My hours are slumberless Dearest the shadows I live with are numberless Little white flowers Will never awaken you Not where the black coach Of sorrow has taken you Angels have no thoughts Of ever returning you Would they be angry If I thought of joining you Gloomy Sunday Gloomy is Sunday With shadows I spend it all My heart and I Have decided to end it all Soon there'll be candles And prayers that are said I know Let them not weep Let them know that I'm glad to go Death is no dream For in death I'm caressin' you With the last breath of my soul I'll be blessin' you Gloomy Sunday Dreaming, I was only dreaming I wake and I find you asleep In the deep of my heart here Darling I hope That my dream never haunted you My heart is tellin' you How much I wanted you Gloomy Sunday
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