Puppet Masters

Is it over?

Walk me, talk me, cut me down,

Think me, sink me, watch me drown.

I’m sick and tired of your fucked up little entertainment,

 So cut the strings, and let me fall from your derangement.

 

Who am I to you, what can I be for you?

Can I be your whole life, or am I just honorable mention?

Am I another flesh doll bound by string,

And every sentiment I feel I articulate never means a thing?

What’s in this for me, what do you want of me?

How can I find this manic manipulation’s prevention?

Is there a day when I can be free,

Just cut your noose, and drown me in the sea.

 

Hold me, fold me, break me through,

Press me, test me, you always do.

In the end, there’s nothing from you to gain,

And this time in servitude is just another wave of pain.

 

Falling…atmosphere pressing my lungs,

I’m better off with this, just hold your tongues.

Falling…pressure rising in my chest,

I can only sacrifice myself, so freedom’s never best.

 

And I will remain here, under your omniscient impulses,

Because I’m too weak to fight this anymore.

And I will remain here, with this presence repulsive.

Because there’s nothing I’ll gain, so nothing to fight you for.

Separation from you is, after all, the obliteration of me…

 

Who am I to you, what can I be for you?

Can I be your whole life, or am I just honorable mention?

Am I another flesh doll bound by string,

And every sentiment I feel I articulate never means a thing?

What’s in this for me, what do you want of me?

How can I find this manic manipulation’s prevention?

Is there a day when I can be free?

Just cut your noose, and drown me in the sea.

Reviews

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The second best of the three that I've read today.