Hung By A Thread
Lyrics by Amy Griffiths
Your touch is warm but I can't feel it
It's cold in the dark, a bitter chill
Glistening in the morning mist
Is the serpent coiled for the kill
It's near zero beyond these walls
Its icy touch is upon us all
We're blind in the dark, we cannot see
Innocence before the fall
What do you want us to do?
We will not fight your wars for you
Never more, never again
It's blood for the insane
With wooden fingers on wooden hands
You're a marionette (dancing the dance of death)
Is your heart made of wood?
You're a marionette hung by a thread
Just like children playing their games
We are your toys, your marionettes
Laughing and dancing on fragile threads
They've pulled the floor from under our beds
And you can crawl out through the window
And you can shout it at the wall
But when the celebrating's over
There'll be no one left to hear your call
Were you laughing on the stairway?
Were you laughing at the wall?
Were you laughing at the celebration?
Were you laughing at all?