Music: Chris Rakestraw/Dave Mustaine/Dirk Verbeuren/Teemu Mäntysaari
I punch a clock, I play a role, but everyday it's the same
The party's loud and the drinks are cold, but nothing dulls the pain
I bite my tongue and sell the lie, pretend that I belong
Another shot, another high, make it a double, and make it strong
No voice, no choice, you must obey
When the blood runs cold in the plans we've made
Where the strings are pulled and the traps are laid
Where the lies are truth and our lives are trade
As we march in line in a puppet parade
I ride the edge, I twist the blade, just try to spark a flame
But all the colors start to fade and blur into the same
They say I've got it all, yeah, right, a king without a crown
But when I crash against the floor, I barely make a sound
No voice, no choice, you must obey
When the blood runs cold in the plans we've made
Where the strings are pulled and the traps are laid
Where the lies are truth and our lives are trade
As we march in line in a puppet parade
Strings tied to my back
As I smile like a hangman, you know it's an act
It's a curse, tied to charade
As they dance for the crowd in a puppet parade