Their empty eyes, their phony laugh
The way they say they care
He's created all for his delight
We are just marionettes

He makes them with his bloodied hands
And throws then in a box
He lies to them and says it's real
So the can obey him

I'm sad to say that I'm his too
But I know what's going on
The faithful say I'll rot in hell
For sins I didn't commit

It's rare to find the ones like me
Who don't have strings attached
But now that we know this is fake
What are we to do?

Although we don't need strings to walk
We have imperfect minds
Some question each other the meaning of life
While others just simply live

We sense that he fears much of us
So he makes more of them
Those who have minds will conquer all
And end this puppet show