Shadows on the wall and all the make is fake. A song and a dance. Puppets with tongues like snakes. Read from the script and they’ll lend you a hand only when your skin takes on the brand. Grist inside the mill tastes like sugar in the pill. Too thin to take on and too loose to be held. When you only teach it’s not hot enough to melt. A way of life for a sea of eyes. Solving cases with no leads but mine. Easy to confuse repetition for the truth. Paper thin conviction is a waiver to go on believing. Keep me fed, make me dependent. Let me take my own precedent. They all spin when they let go of the lead.