Marionettes..

Pull the strings
Hold them still
Set their wings
Free their will

Haunt their spot
Count them not
To the right,
They turn
To the heart
They burn
One way shot

Cry their fears
They dry your tears
Breathe their wind
They hold your hand

For you they mend
Their broken wings
To you they bend
When you let the string

Live their set
For you they play
Being a Marionette
Is just easy to say

(dedicated to all the Marionettes inside of us)