Non classé

We choose to go to the Moon

I can’t dream no more, swimming over the forest.
I can fly so high, sometimes I touched the sun, it burned my brain.
My submarine is floating somewhere else on the pink clouds in the sky.
I need more than flowers to feel fine down on the ground.

Did you ever eat the magic mushrooms growing at the top of mountains ?
Have you ever met the fire fox of the black night ?

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