The sun sets at last, sliding slowly and silently down 
'Low the horizon in the west, where a small house lies. 

The puppet-man is ending his workday, as the starlight peak through the clouds 
He's worked all day and says goodnight to his dolls before he close the door 
He lives alone in this house, and it's his home and a way of living 
Though he thought he knew all the secrets of his house, there's more. 

'Cause tonight. the puppets are roaming the room 
In spite. of being creatures of iron and wood 
They live as well as you and I 
Though driven by other forces inside 
And tonight the creator's biggest pride 
Will make his way through the door and charge to take the puppet-man's life 

Now the doll runs through the living-room 
And he's hiding in the dimly faded gloom 
Now he's approaching the bed 
And won't leave until the body is dead 

But the creator awakes before the doll can fulfill the task 
And he's paralyzed in amazement as he sees his hand-made mask 
Of the horrifying devil he made 
Once so many years ago 
And he cannot even scream as the knife 
Rips through his throat 

He'll never again be put back on that shelf 
"Kill the flesh! Kill the flesh!" screaming to himself 
The doll is standing above the puppet-maker's corpse 
The devil-mask covered in blood and gore 
Silently standing, looking down 
With the dripping knife still in his hand 

Now he turns and he sees the door 
He's tasted blood and is thirsty for more 
The rain is cleansing his mask as he runs through the night alone 
He's shaking in tension as he's heading for the town. 

(Solo) 

'Cause tonight. the puppets are killing in town 
And the villagers are lying in bloodstained nighting-gowns 
And now as they all have become alive 
They are immortal and cannot die 
And tonight the creator's biggest pride 
Will run into the world and try to take mortal men's life 

He's hunting at night. Watch out for open windows 
He's hunting at night. Perhaps you should stay inside? 
He's hunting at night 

The creator's biggest pride - Comments 

A most funny song to work on. It turned out quite infant and childish, with the sheer wickedness and evil which are found in classical King, Fullci and Argento movies and with a pinch of Tales from the Crypt. I don't really have a clue why the lyric turnes out like it did, but I have a sneaking feeling that the song made me do it. It's just perfect how the doll sneaks trough the living-room and hides in the dimly faded gloom. 
- Narrenschiff