| On top of the world
|
| So tranquil and so still
|
| But the lights they grow
|
| Now into view
|
| Back to a controlling
|
| Manipulating game
|
| Where they want zombies
|
| One and the same
|
| No confusion if not for differences
|
| They choose destruction over acceptances
|
| I’m changing the channel
|
| Pulling the plug
|
| Tired of this battle
|
| I never understood
|
| Like puppets we dance on strings
|
| Disillusioned by many things
|
| When do we open up our eyes
|
| The future’s ours to choose what it brings
|
| Like puppets we dance on strings
|
| Disillusioned by many things
|
| When do we open up our eyes
|
| The future’s ours to choose just what it brings
|
| On top of the world
|
| Flying high through the air
|
| Seems so small
|
| And peaceful down below
|
| But with infectious immorality
|
| People will not let each other go
|
| To be what they want to be, no longer submissive
|
| It’s getting old and something’s gotta give
|
| I’m turning the dial
|
| Pulling the plug
|
| Tired of the trial
|
| I never understood
|
| Like puppets we dance on strings
|
| Disillusioned by many things
|
| When do we open up our eyes
|
| The future’s ours to choose what it brings
|
| Like puppets we dance on strings
|
| Disillusioned by many things
|
| When do we open up our eyes
|
| The future’s ours to choose just what it brings
|
| When times too late
|
| We question our fate
|
| Heroes tumble one by one
|
| Now there’s nowhere to run
|
| We have to wake up
|
| Before we come undone |