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We listen to the Tagus, the boats and seagulls and a voice asking Lisbon what she is doing there, her eyes fixed on the Tagus as if they were mooring bollards for ships to tie up to. The boats leave and never come back, they cry tears of stone at each corner of the quay. This Fado speaks to us of Lisbon's relationship with the Tagus and the departure.
"Mísia drawing tears in any language."


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