Der gestiefelte Kater als Trickster, der nie schreit und nie ein Messer braucht, und trotzdem jedes Leben auftrennt. Ein Märchen für Erwachsene, erzählt von der Katze.
A fairytale for grown-ups. Told by the cat. Or… about the cat?
There once was a cat who wore fine leather,
Walked like a prince through any weather.
He didn't beg, he didn't chase,
He spread lies with velvet grace.
His master starved, the house was bare,
No gold, no bread, no crown to wear.
So the cat said: "Trust me. Play your part."
And tore the kingdom map apart.
Boots made of lies,
Paws without sound.
Where he walks,
No truth is found.
Boots made of lies,
Eyes that always gleam.
He builds you a life,
But not what it seems.
He tricked a king with rabbit's blood,
Spoke to lords like rain to mud.
He called his master "Marquis bold",
But sold his voice for coins and gold.
The ogre's death? A quiet thing.
The cat just smiled, and pulled the string.
He said: "A monster must be slain."
But sometimes monsters speak like you.
Boots made of lies,
Tail made of thread.
He walks you to power,
Then eats what you shed.
Boots made of lies,
Smiles stitched with sin,
You win the world,
But lose what's within.
He never raised his voice.
He never used a knife.
But every step he took
Unstitched a life.
He wears no crown,
But you kneel all the same.
Because the cat, my child,
Knows how you tick.
Boots made of lies,
Words soft as sleep.
He gives you a world,
But nothing to keep.
Boots made of lies,
King without throne.
The cat walks on,
And your silence dies with you.
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