I am your precious puppet, your tiny wooden queen
You whisper me your stories, your promises and dreams
I sit upon your hand, my living, breathing throne
And you tell me with your eyes that you are mine and mine alone
But what if I had skin, how would we begin?
What if these lips were real, if these fingers could feel,
If I could be like you, what would you do?
If I had a heart to fill, would you love me, still?
Your voice, it cuts through all the strings, so radiant, so clear
You shine for me so brightly, all the others dissapear
But then you leave to live the real life I cannot share
You don a mask I do not own, I cannot have you there
But what if I had skin, how would we begin?
What if these lips were real, if these fingers could feel?
If I could be like you, what would you do?
If I had a heart to fill, would you love me, still?
I feel so young and awkward, like a maid of just sixteen
Yet I'm the strong, the old one, why so inbetween
I know just how this play should end, it's played a thousand times
But humans never learn the script, you might forget your lines
But what if I had skin, how would we begin?
What if these lips were real, if these fingers could feel?
If I could be like you, what would you do?
If I had a heart to fill, would you love me, still?
Would you love me, still?