Triste boneco de ferro - Bokanovski's Baseborn Rat

..A natural son of all the lust on the universe. Took as stillborn, thus dead by all means to every soul that dared to live in times so turbulent. Realidade quimera. Curved, starved(Faminto por Motivos) to a semi-counscious state, carved his own cure on that thin chest of his, claiming what was his by rights: A maggot crown bathed crimson in the blood of his days. Heir to a dying throne, a bastard king without lands, power, nor gold. His only riches were the hideouts provided by the moonlight, in which he struggled day after day to find a meaning for that empty phone booth behind the brick wall (Com gritos de guerra pixados). Carrasco. Verdugo. Feitor. He felt the pity only for those who'd inherit the landmine his mind had become. "Culpa de Sangue" - Leia nas paredes, ele dizia. E numa dança circular clamava a vida de inocentes com sua lâmina, gracioso como Cyrano de Bergerac, silencioso como seu próprio nome: