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What if each of us is a doll

With the puppeteer sitting high above

Manipulating our movements and thoughts

What a fun game this play of dolls!

He controlls our movements

And our thoughts:

I want my hair dyed bright blond...

Where is my little comb?

He checks if we looks acceptable

The girls wearing bright dresses,

And the boys fighting with wooden swords.

He throws away broken toys -

They've commited suicide,

Or have been killed

Says the police doll in court.

He is an old man with a wrinkled face

His eyes are a pale blue and gray

His smile is crooked

And his nose is big

His jokes are really vile

But the children like him still

For no one else can make the dolls look so human

No other puppeteer can play with them so well.

The thin ropes are invisible

And the little human dolls do everything by themselves.

The puppeteer thinks himself master

How many lives he suddenly controls!

It's a shame that he, too, doesn't know

That is also a puppet, a doll

And a puppeteer above is contolling the

Puppeteer's world.

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