Puppets, we hang, on a string
Like birds we fly, we try and sing
Captives held in the world's cage
All locked in our gold-studded cage
...
In this world of ash and dust
The strange trails walked betray us
With little hope and heart
...
Let me tell you a cold story
of this lonely little bird
Who flew in skies of gold and glory
Whose song, for miles, would be heard
...