I am the absolute monarch of France,
I built a palace, rich and grand, to dance.
Beneath the weight of France, I stand alone,
A king, like god, yet still I feel unknown.

I raised a palace of mine in Versailles,
Where soldiers built it with their hands, not wiles.
But as I watch them bow, and kiss my feet,
Do they see me or just the throne I keep?
I made a kingdom, none could e’er compare,

With power vast, beyond all realms of air.
But in my heart, I am drowning inside,
A king with all, but no one to abide.
I wear this crown—the weight it pulls me down!
Its heavy burden always makes me frown.

What once was power now feels more like chains,
A prison built by years of royal gains.
L’état, c’est moi, vast and full of my pride,
A kingdom rich and rare with power wide.
But do they love me or the wealth I’ve brought?

And do they know that I have a bald spot?
No soul can fill the hollow in my chest,
The void within is dark with nothing left.
For in this crown, I am both king and sun,
All that I’ve gained now crumbles into none