Puppet Death


And yeah I'd fake it at a funeral.

Be sacred to the family for all my plastic tears

And soothe them of their fears

With all my comfort lies that soon unfold.

And share your bruise.

So don't think me to hold black hearts

For when I lose this life I used

Know that it's just God's ruse:

A way to keep himself amused.

And we're just puppets obsolete.

Some chalk on a piece of concrete

Traces us out to be cartoons.

A show put on for the cloud-spectators

Hoping when we're gone

Our strings will lift us someplace greater.

Hey, but you know,

Why should puppets weep at such a standard show?

I'll see you later...

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