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Harket Morten - Sondag Morgen (sunday Morning)

She smiles in her sleep You klimb past her shape You dress in the dark A door closes behind You are in the hallway You came here tonight She will maybe awaken But now you have left Early one Sunday The city's blue Late in November The day after You have not slept You're not even tired You walk in a street You never have seen The streets are that many Your thoughts even more You hear a laughter You turn to see It was only yourself And the Devil who laughed It grows a poppy in your blood

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