Each of us has in our soul
A portion of eagle, a portion of mole
One soars in the sunlight
One soars in a hole
The mountain which looks like a prop
Is black at the bottom and white at the top
Soldiers surround it with twine
I have to cut through it to claim what is mine
Its summit is marked by a tree
My double in uniform challenges me
He says is this tree mine?
I say tap it and see
He drives in a platinum spout
Turns the tap on, all this jelly comes out
Royal Jelly I stored in this tree
In an earlier lifetime, when I was a bee
Yeah, I'm a King Bee, though my wings be furled
And my kingdom is not of this world

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS