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Coincidences? I think not. |
To no beliefs I give creed; Not one superstition feed. Not an omen shall I heed. Still, looking back, I see The sour wine And pheasant's cry; Signs of what would come. To no powers do I plead; No doctrines ever I'll need. Not an omen shall I heed. Still, looking back, I see The snow-white lines And pheasant's cry; Signs of what did come. Jag tänker inte längre varje natt, 1 Men minnen kryper stundom under skinnet. 2 Jag gråter inte längre varje natt, 3 Men minnen annekterar stundom sinnet. 4 Footnotes |
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