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
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