O Little Tramp.... my poor heart br br festivals of cranky and the ego flying as a smoke In the multiple br br there is no place for you...! br br in the parties of distribution of mummified bodies.... and the parties of Wake-up bodies br br Suppose you are being... br Witness to the drowning in the last sin? br br You.. my soft smile heart br br who homelessly roam the misery eternal yards br br heavily pushed vehicle with the br br br your tears always from sticky burned blood br br br You tramp br br br Masked or without mask br br This is not your cirque..... no Children laughing here nor girls putting their hands on the surprising mouths br br Here the game biggest than you... and as supposed in you.. Dear Child polite br br the questions were died before you arrange them in your little mind br br br Oh, my big heart br br How many your torn down files contain from desolated papers which repeated every time br br br O Little Tramp....