Once he was born and once he was dead,
But not even for a moment he was supposed to be sad.
While entering the small and bright shining gate,
The cynical angels whispered his fate.

They told he should smile while he observes
The cute little world he's about to bare,
For he will not ignore the suffering faces
Which are looking below and saying with care:
"You won't understand, you're too little, too fair."

And wherever he'll go, he'll be witness to magic
Of the pure cunning love and her pure endless death,
So the childhood dreams will be no longer a legend,
And forever he'll loose the urge to confess
For leaving behind some destruction and mess.

So he entered our world and he lived through his life,
And the angels kept whispering with glistening eyes
About the one who is ugly and the one with the knife,
Knowing exactly whose beating fair heart it will slice.