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...And When I Die
(World)
By
Ale Di Gangi
Image ID: 374_250_009
I took an air-rifle, shot a magpie to the ground & it died without a sound.
Your skin so pale against the fallen Autumn leaves &
no-one saw us but the trees.
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees produce the air that I am breathing.
Yeah, the trees, those useless trees; they never said that you were leaving.
Pulp, The Trees
Firenze, 2004
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