I’d like to tell you something about ole Darth Vader:
Well, he can’t enjoy gum or a Now & Later.
A Tootsie Roll Pop has never crossed his lips.
And because he’s always wearing that damn re-breather,
He can’t smell popcorn at the movie theater.
At least that butter won’t make it to his hips.
Though he can choke a dude dead just by making a fist,
Those gloves make it hard to write a grocery list.
Crisp new credits are tricky to separate.
And his cool new robot voice is deep and monotone,
But he can’t really talk via cellular phone.
That helmet’s cool, but makes it hard to relate.
That black suit he’s wearing may mean he’s formally dressed,
But he’ll not know the warmth of a lover’s caress.
He’ll never feel the ocean’s spray on his cheek.
There are simply some things his dark force powers can’t claim
Like the cool kiss of a gentle mid-summer rain.
Or the tickle of soft grass beneath bare feet.
Sure, he may have the Rebel base just within his grasp
But finding happiness is a much harder task.
Clairvoyant or not, it’s always out of sight.
Deep in that poor ole sith lord’s heart, it always lingers,
It’s the one thing that keeps slipping through his fingers
Like star systems that are being held too tight.