Death Of A Writer

"Welcome to these lines, my puppets with no knives
I am your creator, I've got a master plan
I write a best-seller with eine billion characters
The story seems too big boys, Daddy's tired and he's got to go
They kneel down when I say, I thrill them when I want
And if one tries to go outside...

O baby don't you cry, Baby, I never die
O baby don't you cry for the King-Ink's gonna dry

My name's so famous upon the surface of the Earth
But my book, you've never read for the reasons you play within
In another world, I'm the servant of another master plan
In my dreams, I'm the King, my will is within my ink

Baby, come back to me
For the whole wide world can disappear with one word"

"Welcome to these lines, my puppets I've got a knife !
Cut-down your silver strings" says the friend of human beings
"You know my name, don't you ? So unofficial is the Truth...
Do-be-careful-with-the-Book..."

Welcome to the doom, with no king and no strings
Now that you're starved and cold, you know what liberty is
Remember he wrote a best-seller with a billion characters
And if you try to go outside..."