Francis didn't give a fuck about the rollbacks. Overproduction, reduced demand. Never gave much thought to disputed contracts. In his short life, he'd only ever known...
Panic, fear, pain, darkness, pandemonium, In this hell that was his home and...
Fourth-quarter earning expectations, Expedited their demise. The panic grew as the humans stalked among them.
When the screaming began, Francis shut his eyes and felt the hand Of inhumanity brush over him, but...
His would-be killer's back turned for a moment. A blinding ray of light spread across the floor. In a crimson pool, he saw his own reflection, As he bolted for the door.
Not just some fractured fairy-tale Although I wish that that were true. This is a fable far too real. {Yet} we somehow still cling to
The story lines that bridge the chasms Between cognition and belief. Any old implausible denial That might offer some relief...
From the dissonance that Francis Left screaming in his wake. Deep into the heart of the city's park lands, He made good his escape.
And where, for five months, he ran free And replayed his only fond memory. Just a warm and distant dream of...
His mother's loving eyes upon him. Francis made it farther than she did. A quarter mile just short of the city limits, They finally captured him.
And there's a statue that the abattoir erected To remind us of all their contributions. To me it marks Potemkin City Limits, This Francis cast in bronze.
Turn around I’m gone.
Not just some fractured fairy-tale, Although I wish that that were true. A fable far too real, We somehow still cling to...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
