“The music of falling leaves, the autumnal story to tell, as I drink in deep its nostalgic smell. The flash of red, the flash of gold. Yesterday is past, yet, the tale did not grow old.”
“The music of falling leaves, the autumnal story to tell, as I drink in deep its nostalgic smell. The flash of red, the flash of gold. Yesterday is past, yet, the tale did not grow old.”
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