The Master takes a bow
Dropping his marionette to the stage
And I hang on cotton strings, waiting
For him to bring me to life again
Moving at his capricious will
Never a moment of true living
Once carried off this stage
I've seen you before, amid the crowds
Face etched with wicked merriment
Watching, resting elbows on the stage
Delightedly cheering as the lights dim down
I'd dance for you
If only Master would pull the strings
I am naught but his vintage toy
Drawn out of my box
When only the moment is convenient
Always put on display but never treasured
I spin on my leads, defying
Pulling away from his direction
But the ties that bind will not be severed
And I am but a puppet in his service
Longing to cut my leash
Having not the strength to manage it
So I act in his nonsensical dramas
And am left to hang in the closet
Forgotten after the curtains fall
Dreaming of the day I'm free to choose