I opened the blue album
Full of dust and worn out
I looked at all the pictures of myself
Small clean yet stained
Thought I was flying
Formerly loving
Remembered all the stories of people
About my history
They told me that I was spoiled
They say myself slalu dtimang
A beautiful tone
Slalu unraveling from him
a naughty cry from my lips
Will not be his pain
The hand is smooth and holy
Have raised this self
Soul and whole life
Defiant he gave
Mom is there and no you
Kan slalu is in my heart
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