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The Emperor's Clothes | ||
| The emperor can't see his clothes But feigns he can, from vanity. His subjects, laughing, all suppose He's lost a bit of sanity. He fools himself, and thinks them rude To mock their sovereign in the street. He won't admit that he is nude. He brags to all his robes are net. Who knows how often we have erred And thought us better than we are? We think ourselves so well prepared But often fall short of our par. | ||
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