Thomas Anders Style - Frankstein

Stitched together in the cellar cold.
Bits of strangers and borrowed skin.
My teacher gave me a second life.
Then turned his back on the thing he made.
I learned to walk on another man's bones.
I learned to speak with a borrowed tongue.
And every mirror asked me who I am.
I never had an answer.
Frankenstein, Frankenstein. Look what your hands have done.
Frankenstein, Frankenstein. I am the monster you outrun.
You gave me breath and then you fled.