Um disparo à queima roupa:
"Poor is the man whose pleasures depend on the permission of another. Love me, that's right, love me I wanna be your baby".
(...) Wanting, needing, waitingFor you to justify my loveYearning, burningFor you to justify my loveWhat are you gonna do?!!!What are you gonna do?!!!Talk to me, tell me your dreamsAm I in them?!!!Tell me your fearsAre you scared?!!!Tell me your storiesI'm not afraid of who you areWe can fly!!!
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