His palace was made of tarpaulin,
And regal crown made of tin foil;
His reign filled with quaint lanes,
Plastic pipe he carried was his sword cane;
Dilapidated, dingy narrow lanes, Yet,
Filled with abundant love, I bet!
Bottle caps, buttons, cardboard,
Were invaluable treasures he guarded;
His arrival announced royally in style,
By the chugging of a passer by train;
The rhythmic of patter of raindrops,
Were the only applause he sought;
Living in his own paradise happily,
The ragpicker's son was his own king!