'My dearest Pygmalion,
Thank you...'
Said Galatea softly

In your masterful ways
You killed me completely
You suffocated my soul so well
That now I can't even see beyond today

Now, how can I explain to my beautiful spring
He's so innocent still
How can I tell him
That I am not paranoid
That I am not mad
It's just that sometimes I'm very dead inside

You maimed my capacity to feel
to love
I'm now an eunuch of trust
a monster inside, melting slowly
in guilt for sins I have never committed
wars that were waged on my behalf...

Thank you my Pygmalion
There were times when I thought that
human cruelty can only go that far
But then you you proved me wrong

You created me, left me in the lab
sharpened your tools in months around the world
and around us
When the time was ripe
when I feared nothing
Clothes of who I was on the floor
You ripped me open

Now how can I explain to him
He's so innocent still
How can I tell him
That when I look into his eyes I heal
But never enough
To believe him
So far not enough to grow another me out of the ashes...