A photo... a story...

a graffiti... a dream...

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Δευτέρα, 21 Σεπτεμβρίου 2009

The Violin

Well before you know it he is born,

He's looking up through painted bars

And he hears a hairy stranger say

"He'll learn to play the violin."

His mother's voice is high and sweet,

He's got her chin and rosy cheeks

And before this birdy leaves the nest

He'll learn to play the violin...

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