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The Sun is Different Here
The sun is different here,
Because of you,
Who makes me proud, my dear,
By God, this is true.
Craving for your touch, the air sets in motion,
When it senses thy presence,
I, in the vein of Iago, get a bit green,
You know, I can’t endure and get pretty tense.
You are only mine; I’ll even slap death,
If it dares to take you away, my breath.
