
Tied up with strings,
No will of its own.
To its master it clings,
Down to the bone.
Shaped like a man,
But dead inside.
No life, no plan,
Nothing to provide.
Tied up with strings,
No will of its own.
To its master it clings,
Down to the bone.
Shaped like a man,
But dead inside.
No life, no plan,
Nothing to provide.