lilac wine
I'll take that train, change at Firenze Santa Maria Novella, I light up a cigarette on the dock of the dirty waiting room and then a whole to mean-spirited tirade Central Parma. I went down, I take the bus, ring the bell, I take off, you drive out his tongue in her mouth and make love to confuse the sleepy groans with the curses of the garbage collection. I dressed, I make 334 kilometers to the train car and back in the home, no parking. 
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