Playing God

I can't make my own decisionsOr make any with precisionWell, maybe you should tie me upSo I don't go where you don't want meYou say that I've been changingThat I'm not just simply agingYeah, how could that be logical?Just keep on cramming ideas down my throatYou don't have to believe meBut the way I, way I see itNext time you point a fingerI might have to bend it backOr break it, break it offNext time you point a fingerI'll point you to the mirrorIf God's the game that you're playingWell, we must get more acquaintedBecause it has to be so lonelyTo be the only one who's holyIt's just my humble opinionBut it's one that I believe inYou don't deserve a point of viewIf the only thing you see is youYou don't have to believe meBut the way I, way I see itNext time you point a fingerI might have to bend it backOr break it, break it offNext time you point a fingerI'll point you to the mirrorThis is the last second chance(I'll point you to the mirror)I'm half as good as it gets(I'll point you to the mirror)I'm on both sides of the fence(I'll point you to the mirror)Without a hint of regretI'll hold you to itI know you don't believe meBut the way I, way I see itNext time you point a fingerI might have to bend it backOr break it, break it offNext time you point a fingerI'll point you to the mirrorI know you won't believe meBut the way I, way I see itNext time you point a fingerI might have to bend it backThen break it, break it offNext time you point a fingerI'll point you to the mirror