|
They wound you up like a child's toy |
|
And pointed you into the fire |
|
And even as your plastic self began to melt |
|
You didn't know the end was near |
|
They slit your throat like you were cattle |
|
Bled you out and left you dry |
|
And even as the warmth of red |
|
Rushed across your chest you said |
|
Is it okay if I ask why |
|
Why does it feel so much like it's a stab in the back |
|
Like if you let them in they're just poised for attack |
|
So how can anyone form anything that's real |
|
When everyone hates everyone for saying what they feel |
|
You're conditioned not to notice |
|
Anything beyond your reach |
|
So when the windows open up |
|
You won't offer up a speech |
|
You'll just be silent like the windup toy they taught you all to be |
|
And I'll just smile as I'm melting down the man I thought was me |
