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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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You are gone
But you left Your kiss on a cup of coffee And on my tear-filled eyes. Shyly I approach the cup And I kiss your kiss; I call and call you Again and again With my tear-filled eyes, The eyes kissed by you. My God, I didn't know It was to be the last kiss! And since then I have held The book of suffering In my arms.
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