If we only knew inside the emperors head,
or his dreams when he was all tucked up in bed,
Probably dreaming of glory and fine robes,
the magnificent significance he find would in those,
we laugh and mutter and think him a fool,
not at all realising we are living his rule,
oh yes, you and I are, just like him,
so now’s the turn for the emperors’ grin.
It’s not for me to sit here and say,
you’re all dressed up but, in the wrong way,
it takes a heart, and a mind, and bravery too,
to see the fool king is really you.
so often we walk as one in the crowd,
not knowing we’ve grown blindly noble and proud.
Dressed to the nines in our fake finery.
A mistake we all make in- ‘damn-abley’.
In the end, what is inside shines out,
every time it happens, just wait and find out,
so you’d better choose now whether you do it by chance,
or walk in the crowds an embarrassing glance.
the people take time but the people will see,
right through your clothes and on and through me,
the curtain comes down and show it will end.
In the end,
You’ve heard it before and I’ll say it again,
it’s not the outside that counteth for men.
When you hear laughing you’ll know who it is,
the naked emperor who just took a quick squiz,
at the modern day marvel with name just like mine,
struggling to get this damned poem to rhyme.
So, now we’ve seen inside the emperors head,
will the same mistake,
make you wish you were hypothetically dead?
