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Buenos Aires, Argentina

Psicólogo Clínico

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping, While my guitar gently weeps. I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping, Still my guitar gently weeps. I don't know why nobody told you, How to unfold your love I don't know how someone controlled you, They bought and sold you. I look at the world and I notice it's turning, While my guitar gently weeps. With every mistake we must surely be learning, Still my guitar gently weeps...