Father, you are my tester
The hands that hold my strings
You are my maker, my painter
I belong to you.
Father, dear father, you are my window.
The key to the world, I will never know
You bring light to my life
Father you shape my mind.
With every stroke of your blade, father
You mold me into being, so that I may appear real
Give me joints, so that I may appear to move
A mouth so that I may appear to speak.
But father, you see, I have no voice
You gave me no will, so that I may move without strings
And father you forgot my mind,
so I may think alone, all on my own.
Father I do not question you.
I only wish to tell you
I am not a daughter,
Just a puppet on a string.
