Viens à Maman,
let me show you how that shameful thing is done,
you konw, with ink on paper,
for you not to be sorry anymore,
in the morning with croissant Triomphe
and floating island by Abyssinian charms.
Fix your shoe laces, suck your belly
and grab me by the aorta.
Let go of me
over Père Malin´s brothel,
for more than three...
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