I don't look backwards for a moment not, feel-me persecuted
run on the dry leaves around me
the araucarias cross my path
everything becomes obstacle in front of me
hinder my escape.
run on the dry leaves around me
the araucarias cross my path
everything becomes obstacle in front of me
hinder my escape.
What can I do?
I know when I will reach is my end
there's nothing else to fear
this will be my the last cry.
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