Written by Adam M. Snow
We are to the world, hung by a string,
manipulated for their game;
fed lies, blindfolded we beg for more.
Controlling us from afar,
the Puppeteers laugh with jest.
We, the marionettes hung by a string -
remains helpless, lifeless.
Unaware we're the pawns in their game of chess,
our strings grow tighter.
With our lives we entertain,
fear of death overwhelming.
Force to live in fantasy;
I know the truth, I cut my strings;
I'm neither tool nor a puppet.
The lies they fed are just that, lies,
the damnation soon to come,
corruption of man's thirst for power;
the urge to kill God to be God.
It is the nature of man,
to destroy ourselves for greed.
To start the downward spiral -
to our Hellish future, our demise.
The dark days of Tribulation;
Mark of the Beast.
Yet we're hung by a string,
blindfolded, we dance for them.
Living in lies, their fantasy;
forever starving, we wait.
God, help us.