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Jun 2014
Dance you will?
The chant
You hear it?
The violin...
The piano...
An orchestra...
The sun goes down,
The moon comes up,
Stars are gathering around on the skye,
Fireflies hanging from walls.
And you my dear,
This night is yours with this first dance.
Let me crown you as an empress.
Sander
Written by
Sander
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