Our Puppet Show is Over

Play with me, play with my mind, treat me like I am made of wood

Strings attached, only to my arms, hands, feet, and mouth, how could

How could you think I would feel on your stage, while you make me into your puppet game

Let me fall on my face, as they laugh out loud, and then a screeching hault

Your ballerina enters the stage, she curtsy's once then twice, only to get the applaud

Now I look as if I can not talk, I'm gagged by your hypnotic poison

You are not the prince we see, you are not the everything, your just lame

The audience is ready now for the very best part of this puppetry, Iv'e chosen

To break away from these strings, and really give them some drama, it's time for a jolt

The knife that's been behind my back is simply brought to attention, only bloody ballerina slippers hang

Above your bed, you'll dream of me, a nightmare, just another puppet on a string, this one slit her throat

No more script to read, no dance to do, it's saddly no more, the last act is in your lap, no more a four leaf clover

It's a fact, that one heart turned to wood,  like just another puppet on a string, all strings must brake, it was all just a big mistake

Our puppet show is over