The Orphan Of Paris

What you see outside is what dies

I may seem moody and gloomy

but how can I be such?

I have the whole world for me

It´s all for me to glide

What has my pride died

 

I walk from Champs- Elysees, to the canal of St. Martin

For I´m now parent-free- No one to advice me

or to price me trice

It´s such a grandure to just stay poor

not from love, but American Marten

Just stay heated from the heart

 

I can stay a Bohemian in Notre-Dame

truly and unruly forever

I could be the king of the night

Flying bright like a shooting star

                                               All over the world

with no one to blame

me- It can be what I became.

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