I throw the object of my almighty power
on the ground.
You pick it up and hand it back to me
obediently .
I reject it and you bow again .
In my mind the comedy of power
is engraved .
You are nothing,but docile pawns
on the chessboard of my life .
I am the child king of the game.
Red or black whatever the color ...
I rip out the eyes of the dolls
I pretend to love .
I could even cry .
You will only gather the dust
of your pretenses ...
You,who have learned to say thanks
for what you are given in return...
This daily bread that the humble
praise as they happily climb
the scaffold ...
I am the child king who doesn\'t
believe in your laws ...
The nonsense of the fox
in the story makes me laugh !
\'\' ,Serpent draw me a ship to sail across
the land of muttons ! \'\'
Mum says I mustn\'t hurt someone.
then I bawl mean things
and breaks all my toys ...
Mum only knows how to sweep
the floor and brings corpses to life...
I hate the sage smell of her arms
and filthy lips mummified with past ,
only chanting the gospel
of loving words ...
I am the child king .
with a passion for dinosaurs !
Once on the throne ,
I would cultivate a garden of flowers
deprived of light and water ,
that I would watch to die
and put out to dry in memoriam...
I would carry a gun that never
lets me down !
I will kill the clown at the school exit ,
while shouting :
\'\' Does anyone want to play with the child king ? \'\'