Treading down the street, I
Behold a child standing still
With broad eyes full of brine
He was solus and wailing loud,
Wailing to get the bread of his,
Wailing to get the milk of love,
Wailing to console, his own mind
That, there’s none to look after him
Still the world of human is blind
To the pain, of their own child.
Still the heaven is having x'mas
By burning the halcyon, days of Earth,
Howbeit we, are the best by Him,
Howbeit we, are the greatest of all,
That's not for being, human anymore
That's just because, we think of so.