The strings are wrapping tightly around
my wrists, the static in my head is getting
louder, louder, louder, and louder.
I'm moving forward, backwards, side to side.
I have lost all control, I'm nothing but a puppet
on a pair of thick strings.
The puppeteer looks down on me, his dark eyes
penetrating my soul, can I get a hand, my hand,
the hand I need to control.
The moves I make, they are not mine.
I'm nothing but a puppet on a pair of thick strings.