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Circus Lion's Lament

What is a king?
Oh a foolish thing,
So pathetic and tired,
A crown of gold,
A mighty roar,
All to jump through a hoop made of fire.

But what is a king?
Oh a terrible thing,
Falling to the ground with a crash,
A powerful jaw,
And razors sharp claws,
Only to feel the whip's painful lash.

Tell me what is a king?
What an awful thing,
That never I wanted to be,
A wide open plain,
Wind in my mane,
To run like I'm wild and free.

Yet I am a king,
Such an empty thing,
Dancing on a small wooden stage,
And I'd like to think,
If somehow I'd shrink,
I'd slip through the bars of my cage.

This is a king,
A powerless thing,
Dancing at the whims of a clown,
A slave to the chain,
A victim of shame,
For the strong are always forced down.

So don't be a king,
If you be anything,
Be happy and careless and free,
To rule your own pride,
To feel free inside,
Live a life for the "you" you could be.
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