Puppets کے بول

Between the clouds the strings go down Sewing each articulation The sarcastic smiles while his fingers dance Rowing the puppet's march with dedication Run! Obey! Sacrifice yourselves! One line, straight line! They progress blinded Toward the paper mountain That won't pay for your contempt More tangled the strings move The puppets fight for space Chaos taking their heads The blood in the ditches is black One line, straight line! They progress blinded Toward the paper mountain That won't pay for your contempt We are all puppets! Marching till get tired It doesn't exist future or past Only the now exists and it smells bad