Geppetto’s Creation

by Matt Gaydar

Genre: Folk

Lyrics

Oh Maker,
Where’s my soul
I’ll never get to be a man

It’s cold and dark inside my head
No moving parts or constant breathe
Shaped with care and meant to live
But pain and lies are all I give

Oh Maker,
Where’s my soul
I’ll never get to be a man

My joints are stiff, there’s no relief
No blood or bones to find beneath
There’s something missing still inside
A truer life, I’ve been denied
I’m made of wood and rusted nail
My interest here is getting stale
I remain the puppet on the string
Devoid of human understanding

Oh Maker,
Where’s my soul
I’ll never get to be a man

Oh Maker,
Where’s my soul
I’ll never get to be a man

Ohh oh oh