I am  strongly stringed puppet boy
I am jointed and hinjed by a cord
I jump as high as my master calls
I tell lies everytime, my nose grows
I am just toy not a boy of course

I lie about my feelings  more
I fake things up to be endorsed
I move and dance to his guitar
I choose to live life but I die
I only cross my heart and lie

Had anyone told me the trick
Then I'll always tell the truth
I will accept myself  and be discrete
I will stay inert along the busy streets
I will grow to become a boy and be real

When they tell my fairytales
I shall be known as a real boy
I won't be just a wooden toy
I won't be my masters puppet
But just be a living pinocchio