Strings Songtext
von Ruth Theodore

Where do the feelings go when they die?
Cries the marionette to a hole in the sky
Will all I hold closest change before I notice?
Like the stars alive in the past
Just like the stars alive in the past
Hanging on their strings
Poor things, poor things
Give me a length of time and away with gravity
And I will bind her hands and ask him to carry me
Back to my old flame, my ball and chain
Up to the stars alive in the past
′Cause either you remind me of someone
Or I've stared so long I′ve become one
Bolted and boarded, borrowed and haunted
And hollow now as empty houses
A tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye
Cries the marionette to the hole in the sky
Make me part of the process
'Cause I've aged before I′ve noticed
Like the stars alive in the past


I′m just like the stars alive in the past
Hanging from my strings
Poor strings, poor strings
I've got a waistline and a date with gravity
I like his low notes and I go where they carry me
Back to my old ways, my cool phase
Up to the stars alive in the past
Where I′d ride the arcades to
Where I'd dance to anything and be a fool for you
Darling, back in my youth
When I gave you eyes the size of balloons, balloons
Now what′s the use?
To move we must balance and to balance, move
And balloons were made to stray and drift away
Up to the stars alive in the past
Up to the stars alive in the past
Tugging at their strings
Wild things, wild things
Give them an inch and they'll turn their backs to me
If I give them a mile, they′ll come around to me
If you give me a rope and I'll swing
Give me a hope and I'll scream
To the stars alive in the past
That the child in me has a handgun
And she′s holding me for a ransom
She says, "Oh, fucker, you don′t look too well
Didn't you know that empty houses
Have ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, ghosts?"
They don′t come out till
Old flame
My old love keeps
Churning out a light
That can never catch me up like a struck string
Kept shaking in its resonance
The echo of a love
Can long outlive its presence and the heart can race
From the moment it is struck but
A true feeling like a bruise
Is always slower to show up, oh poor thing

Wouldn't change where it comes from
Not for all of the lights in London
So leave it undisturbed as dust for long enough
′Cause that's my love
Still I like to pretend I have better friends
And ways to spend the early hours
Than to get some sleep