the marionetter has your number
pulling your arms and legs
'til you can't stand on your own
dragging your conscience on the stage
and your heart gets rearranged
and you cannot tell your mentor from your maker
look at the crowds bleeding with laughter
over the way you entertain at beck and call
they don't see behind the lights
or the painted backgrounds
they just like to see you fall
but you don't really mind
'cause you're just wasting time
you can't feel anything
you're a boy on a string
i feel a sadness like gapetto
watching the life that he created run away
seeing the puppeteer's intrusion
and holding the remains
of puppets that had rotted away
one day the curtain will not open
and all of the crowds will go away
someday those strings will choke you
but until that day
but you don't really mind
'cause you're just wasting time
you can't feel anything
you're a boy on a string
