Burning Puppets

It burns deep, this fire within my soul
Screaming for redemption, I'm about to loose all control
I'm searching for the answers, trying to find my way,
Tell me, tell me...where should I stay?

The smoke has blinded me, and now I must rely
On the guidance of puppetteirs, bound to cause me to die
They push and pull, tear and mend, never
Content with the results at the end.

So I stand within this circle of fire
Burning and ragged, filled completely with ire
Why should I be a puppet of many,
Contorted and stagged as the perfect enemy?

I'm through with this role,
I'm cutting my strings,
No more shall I be just another one of
That puppetteir's playthings!