You are all puppets, you do as your superiors say
Invisible strings sprout out of your backs
And the only person unable to control anything is you
Your job is to make the little ones laugh
Until they're at your age, where they will learn like you
And give their lives to someone else to take over
You’re all zombies, and all blind to what you’re doing,
Drink up their words; of your own, you are sober
But you asked for this; you signed the papers
And you let the whole thing happen
The entire show you’ve had the scissors in your hand,
But you were blinded by the attention; by the clapping