He creeps through the dark cells of my soul. I hear my chains keyed, collapse and clatter and I am pulled, swept up from the floor on ties that bind me â I am a puppet!
I am hoisted and hung out, dangled in a cold spotlight. No cheering, no applause. I cry out, numb, but no one can hear; Iâm all alone and suspended in secret.
He shows me, in the distance, a city I know thatâs all aglow yet hollow. Iâm thrust out, swung, drawn through the streets - a silent, sad show performing for no one.
He is the one! He is the man whoâs been pulling the strings all this time. Who can he be? Iâm the puppet and he is the master of it all!
He tied them all. He strung them all. He pulled them. He pulled them tightly. He pulled them unseen. He pulled them always.
Itâs him!
Itâs been him!
Only him!
Emerging from reclusive corners come all the lies that have been my life, forming shadow faced people reaching for me, arms out trailing their strings â they are all puppets!
Then his face in their eyes appears in the cold spotlight, distorted and drowning. Oh no, please whisper reason to me! Itâs my face there reflected and staring!
I am the one! I am the man whoâs been pulling the strings all this time. How can this be? Iâm the puppet and I am the master of it all!
I tied them all. I strung them all. I pulled them. I pulled them tightly. I pulled them unseen. I pulled them always.
(Itâs me)
(Itâs been me)
Only me.
- :
- A Marvelous Method Of Reclusion
- Covers Vol. 19
- Ocean of Opportunity
- Covers, Vol. 24
- Covers Vol. 20
- Covers Vol. 12
- Covers Vol. 8
- Covers Vol. 1
- Covers Vol. 22
- Compilation
- Covers Vol. 21
- Covers Vol. 17
- Covers Vol. 14
- Covers Vol. 16
- Covers Vol. 13
- Covers Vol. 15
- Cloud Dancers
- Covers Vol. 11
- Covers Vol. 9
- Covers, Vol. 2