Look at me,
What am I to you?
A poor man with no life?
Look at me,
Oh Earl of your Land,
Tell me what I am.
I could be a rich king,
Of far away,
I could be a pauper,
Of dirt and clay,
I might have a castle,
With maids so fair,
Or only a wicker hut,
With nothing to spare.
So think my king,
My Lord,
My Liege,
What thinks you?
Put me at my ease.
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