TWISTED PUPPETEER

Weak little puppets,believe your T.V.
Mother media,People magazine.
You are not pretty,unless you are me.
Give up on yourself,and let me pull your strings...

The clothes that you wear,the paint on your face.
They're of my design,all of my taste.
Walk how I tell you,say what I say.
Don't ask any questions,or I'll lay you to waste...

After the curtain falls on the stage.
The audience leaves,in disgust and disgraced.
After I've stripped you of every ounce of your faith.
The strings will remain,but the puppet's replaced...