We’ve got an artificial body Drawn emotions on the face We won’t smile, Staying calm and organized. Sleeping quietly in our boxes Working hardly in our boxes Dreaming of a freedom Dreaming of a feeling Dreaming of love You are a poor puppet With textile stomach With porcelain face In the stupid lace dress Your soft curls are all lying one to one Your plastic eyes can see it all in the color of pale pink There’re too many strings holding us down There’re too many things taking our time.
We’re ruining all we’ve created We are crushing all we’ve created We are blasting all we’ve created We are crushing, blasting, blighting, foiling all we’ve created.
This house of glass is made of us This house of pain is made of hate This love we share is made of care This world of hope is on the dope
I’m scared of being me Don’t wanna know myself Afraid of what I am Unneeded item on the shelf. Coming up, coming up, coming up Coming undone. Never more, never more What is within I’ll bring to surface On my face there’s secret faith That someday I’ll get to know my soul. Save yourself from yourself We’ve got a little time left You are the veiled threat Of everything that is alive Your future isn’t bright You’re not a puppeteer You’re empty puppet on the shelf. Turned inside out.
This house of glass is made of us This house of pain is made of hate This love we share is made of care This world of hope is on the dope
The rope is already about our neck Something unknown is at our back It might be blissfully cheerful or devastatingly sad