And yeah I'd fake it at a funeral.
Be sacred to the family for all my plastic tears
And soothe them of their fears
With all my comfort lies that soon unfold.
And share your bruise.
So don't think me to hold black hearts
For when I lose this life I used
Know that it's just God's ruse:
A way to keep himself amused.
And we're just puppets obsolete.
Some chalk on a piece of concrete
Traces us out to be cartoons.
A show put on for the cloud-spectators
Hoping when we're gone
Our strings will lift us someplace greater.
Hey, but you know,
Why should puppets weep at such a standard show?
I'll see you later...