I hate that I can't look at you with out the feel of pain
I hate that I just let you take advantage of me, letting you play a cruel game
Like a puppet on a string
I hate that that little thread is my only life source, to it that I cling
Dancing and moving without a say
I don't want to be controlled; I just don't want to play
I am tired of hanging on with my life
Every so often I take out the knife
I am your own personal puppet that I have no control of
You are my master who plays from above
But I can't take it any long
Eventually I will become stronger
Just you wait and see
Next time it will be you, not me
For now I am your doll to play with
But I will come alive and kill you; this sir, is not a myth
So here I am, supported up by a few strings
From which; I still cling.
