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Puppet of Wax, Puppet of Song (Poupťe de Cire, Poupťe de Son)
Iím a puppet made of wax A puppet made out of songs The sounds that are etched in my heart are strong Puppet of wax a puppet of song Am I better off in fact Than a mannequin in a salon? Life through a rose-coloured delusion Puppet of wax a puppet of song My records have a mirror sheen In which everyone can see me Iím everywhere at the same time My voice is smashed to smithereens Round me I hear the wise-cracks From puppets wearing chiffon But theyíre the ones dancing to all my songs Puppets of wax puppets of song They let themselves overreact For any silly reason The words in their love songs are simply wrong Puppets of wax a puppets of song My records have a mirror sheen In which everyone can see me Iím everywhere at the same time My voice is smashed to smithereens Sometimes I just canít relax Thinking, what's the reason To sing about love but with no passion With no idea whatís going on I'm just a puppet of wax Just a puppet of song Under the sun with my hair of blonde Puppet of wax a puppet of song One day I'll live life like it is in songs Puppet of wax a puppet of song Iíll know about love and whatís going on Puppet of wax puppet of song
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