Potemkin City Limits - Propagandhi
Francis didn't give a f_ck 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 stopped among them,
When the screaming began.
Francis shut his eyes and felt the hand
Of the humanity 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 tail,
Although I wish that that were true.
This is a fable far too real
We somehow still cling to.
The storylines that bridge the chasms
Between cognition and belief.
Any other plausible denial
That might offer some relief...
From the dissonance that Francis
Left screaming in his wake.
Deep into the heart of the city's parklands,
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,
As Francis cast in bronze to the realm of God.
Not just some fractured fairy tail,
Although I wish that that were true.
A fable far too real,
We somehow still cling to.
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