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letra de small house (b side) - empty atlas

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let’s play a game that gives you good reason to shout
you carefully inspect my mouth to find the words i can’t get out
you’ll know you’ve won when i slowly walk away

you live to fight another day ’til someone else treats you the same

i’m hanging from a short string; i’m a puppet, a plaything
but i can think for myself when i’m left on the top shelf

and i pull the cord to hear you say the words i choose
“i love you so; you know i do.” i’m sure at one time that was true
i’m at the point that i can’t figure which is worse
to hear you prove how well you
curse, or to recite what you’ve rehe-rs-d

i’m hanging from a short string; i’m a puppet, a plaything
but i can think for myself when i’m left on the top shelf

of all your deeds, the most wicked one may be
the day you left and you broke what i believed

i’m hanging from a short string; i’m a puppet, a plaything
but i can think for myself when i’m left on the top shelf

i’m here with my own thoughts, and i realize that i’m not
meant to be left out; it gets lonely in this small house

- empty atlas

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