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Tuesday, 6. March 2007

Our Ship

Isn't it the brightest day
we're on a steamer on our way
the river, yet calm and pristine, under us

The captain, to blind to see
steers his ship by memory
the waterfall, he forgot and won't hear

People waving at the shores
their calls unheard now and before
because of, the noise from the abyss

And then we are falling

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Malaidoskop

The Mental Intestines Of Mala

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