I have my theory
Of who is the puppet master
Who is still standing
So I wrote a bit of verse
To express my ideas
Have a listen
It's the man behind the curtain
A secret shadowy figure virtually unknown
He has little to no public presence
If I ruled the world
I would work as a gardener,
In dirty ragged clothes
Outside the big wealthy house
Where my surrogate plays the role
Of Queen of Naboo
The junior servants in the house
Would be under strict orders
To shout at me and abuse me ever time they saw me
To criticize the sloppiness of my work
And to spit at me
The Senior servants would be strictly ordered
Never to speak with me
But to treat me like some dirt
And send a junior servant over with any requests
I would have my own private cottage
And never enter the big house
Except through the secret tunnels
If the revolution ever came hunting
For my evil clan
They would rescue me from the clutches
Of my own brutes
Assuring me that such evil would be destroyed
And then I would disappear into the world
And start again
Secure in the knowledge
That noone will ever find me
Noone will ever know who I really am
I am the keeper of all the secrets
Of all the triggers
Of all the hidden places
And treasure troves