Taking the strings, loving the strands,
of the marionettes carved by your hand...

Where can I go,
when I want to spread wings and fly away...

You are so far away,
Too far away for me...

I don't understand why you find it funny that I...
And how you can laugh at me when I trip and fall...

Where to plant, I cannot guess,
these tired, wayward feet...

It banged in the door when we first met,
somehow both louder and quieter...

While you starve your soul
I drink mine away...

I felt it.
The soft warmth...

You see it, I think
in my eyes...

Why is it that I sit and cry
as I watch the days go by...

Too late to love you,
the time's gone by...

And in that place
my rage reaches out...