Voices come from down the hall
In my room all painted white
I have my bat and rubber ball
I like to sleep with them at night
But now I’m all smiles
The good little shots must be winning
Yes, they crank my dial
My motor is stalled but my wheels are still spinning
Daddy won’t discuss me What a state I must be Mommy couldn’t stand living with a wind-up toy
All my friends live on the fllor
Tiny legs and tiny eyes
They’re free to crawl under the door
And, and someday soon so will I But now I’m all smiles
These good little shots must be working
I’m so happy now
Look, my fingers don’t shake and my head isn’t jerking
Daddy won’t discuss me What a pain I must be Mommy couldn’t stand having such a wound-up boy
Doctors want to check me Poke me and dissect me What do they expect?
Feelings froma wound-up toy?
I don’t think so I7m just a wound-up toy
I’m just a wind-up toy
I’m lost in a nightmare
Shiny white halls
Drawing rats on the wall
Solitary confinement
Chained in a cell
Got my own private hell
Preacher crucifies me Warden wants to fry me I was never young
Never just a little boy
Daddy won’t discuss me What a pain I must be Mama couldn’t stand having such a wound-up boy
I’m just a wind-up toy
I’m a wind-up toy
I’m just a wind-up toy
I’m just a wind-up toy