• Strings
    What am I except a puppet on strings
    A slave to a master
    Who doesn't give a crap wether I splinter or fall apart
    Who plays with me until my joints groan in protest
    Until I am weak and confused
    Until I have no control
    And my head hangs and my feet sag
    Until I am worn out
    Dangerous games
    What am I except a puppet on strings
    Who knows when he will thow me onto the floor
    Shattering my fragile heart
    In search of his next shiny, new toy
    Until the day comes when I'll be cut free
    From the enslaving strings that hold me hostage
    Until then
    I am nothing but a puppet on strings