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Diagnosis: Comatose
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1
Marionettes care not if their painted all alike.
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If they keep to themselves, don't make a sound, they may just get by.
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But if I should free myself from my master's hands, this manifest master plan,
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I'd be content with myself.
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I tried so hard to be a fake, but I'm tired of this tiresome state,
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no medicine I take could make the angels stay nor keep the demons at bay.
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And they've been dreading these nightmares,
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this mindless, man-made array of machines.
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Will somebody remove this thread from my head
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until my mind opens and there is nothing left to sew?
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Only then I'll fall apart at the seams,
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Detach myself from these strings that hold me hostage and get the hell out of here.
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I'm comatose yet I believe that I am real,
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I'm comatose but I know I must be real,
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And they have been dreading these nightmares,
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when we're no longer mindless machines,
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And they'll try to destroy me, dismantle me,
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before I wake and regain consciousness.
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but I am real.
Depeche Mode Comatose /Lyrics
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