Lyrics:
mustélidos. Si, esa é unha boa razón para odiar calquera cousa. Odias a poesía e fas ben Non hai nada nela que non haxa no pelello dunha marta fas ben unha
garganta Ya no se qué decir Telómeros de acero Echándose a perder El sueño es un Mustélido Pequeño y voraz Ladridos en el pecho Ceniceros de latón
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