Объект |
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Без Языка |
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Без заголовка |
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Полет |
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Результат теста ":: Ваш "психологический" возраст ::" |
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Аудио-запись: Enya - Exile |
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Cold as the northern winds in December mornings, Cold is the cry that rings from this far distand shore. Winter has come too late too close beside me. How can I chase away all these fears deep inside? I'll wait the signs to come. I'll find a way I will wait the time to come. I'll find a way home. My light shall be the moon and my path - the ocean. My guide the morning star as I sail home to you. I'll wait the signs to come. I'll find a way. I will wait the time to come. I'll find a way home. Who then can warm my soul? Who can quell my passion? Out of these dreams a boat I will sail home to you. |
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Бесполезные факты о человеке |
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Дыхание ночи или "мой личный креативный рассказ, написанный в полночь" |
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| Страницы: [1] Календарь |