I was lost.

I was lost.

In 1974, I was young, I was naive, and I was pretty lost in my world.

But before I got to him, I was so lost.

I lost a child when I was 15, a second child when I was 16.

They touched me when I was four and I lost my eyesight and was partially paralyzed.

It was near the river that I lost my way.

It was a bag that I lost in the room yesterday.

And as I was traveling around, I kept meeting young people who'd lost hope.

I lost my way and, what was worse, it began to rain.

I lost.

I lost a school key when I was cleaning up after the school festival and I was then required to write an apology letter.

I lost count.

I think I lost my keys.

I lost my face.

I lost my umbrella.

I lost my watch.

I lost the watch.

I lost my luggage.

I lost my money.

It was hard to believe that what I had imagined was now built, permanent and had lost nothing in translation.

We almost lost her a couple of times, and I was there with my brother every day.

I lost and got airlifted.

I have lost my wallet.

I lost all my audiences.

I had lost my belief.

I had lost my pen.

I had lost my pen.

I have lost my pen.

I have lost my pen.

I have lost the key.

I have lost my watch.

I have lost my cap.

I lost my meal card.

I want to get lost.

I bought a pen, but I lost it.

I lost my ticket. What should I do?

And I slowly lost track of where I was in this big biosphere, in this big biosphere that we all live in.

I almost lost it this week.

TBP I lost 150 million dollars.

I lost my key about here.

I kind of lost my focus.

Machu Picchu was never a lost city.

The prince was lost in the woods.

My lost year was my jubilee year.