I may be breathing, but I'm not alive.
I'm a puppet, strings controlled by an invisible hand.
I'm told where to go, what to say, how to act,
but I'm far from being alive.
I have no real thoughts,
and I feel no happy emotions.

I may be breathing, but I'm not alive.
I've given away my control-
to someone who won't throw me off a ledge.
but I'm far from being alive.
Every day I sway near the edge of a cliff,
and my puppeteer yanks my strings away again.

I may be breathing, but I'm not alive.