I am not your equal.
We are not peers.
This is what you tell me.
You are my father,
I am your son.

You say you are proud of me,
That you love me,
That I am a good person.

But if a stranger were to walk in,
And see the way you talk when you're upset,
They would not think that.
And you are upset too often.

They would think I stole the car,
And went to Maine.
That I did drugs,
That I was a thief,
Or even a murderer.
They would not think you were proud of me.

It's hard,
Knowing how to walk around you.
You are the King,
And I am but a peasant.
I am not your equal.

Oftentimes, you treat me well.
We discuss sports,
Current events,
Even politics.
But I am not your equal.

Other times,
It seems I am the wayward son.
The peasant who did not meet his quota.
I am not your equal.

Most of the times you are a benevolent King,
Peaceful and kind.
But sometimes,
You are a harsh King.
And I must be wary.
Because I am not your equal.

You are a good King to me,
You treat me with love and respect.
But still I must remember,
You are King,
And I am a peasant.
I am not your equal.

All I've ever wanted was to make you proud,
And yet I don't know why.
And though sometimes you say you are proud of me,
(And I believe you,)
Other times your actions say different,
And actions,
As every peasant knows,
Are louder than words.

It is clear,
I am not your equal.
For you are King,
And I am peasant.
I am not your equal.
We are not peers.