To me, or not to me, there is no question
Whether I’m richer in my mind than you–still
My truth will match my crowning der coifführer.
I can send bombs across the sea at bad guys,
Or by my lying win them: I lie, I sleep
Still more; and in your sleep, you’ll hear me curse
The traitors, and the million national hopes
my heirs will end, too. It’s a devastation
intensely to be willed. I lie, I sleep,
I sleep, then wake to scheme; I, I’m the club,
With all my phantom bank, and schemes I’ve run,
’til I have ruined all that I can see,
I will not stop.