1.Breaking Out
The city doesn't know what's coming＊
She doesn't feel the heat.
The city won't know what hit her,
What knocked her out into the streets.
The city is thinking that it's over,
And she's already fast asleep.
So I'm breaking out of here tonight.
I am ready.
We're given only what we need,
Only the chance to survive.
And even then, it's a coin toss,
A roll of the dice.
There's gotta be something better,
Something that feels more alive.
So I'm breaking out of here tonight.
I'm breaking out of here.
You've got to feel it girl,
Feel the wind pick up.
It feels like something's gonna change,
But there's no use putting it in drive
If all the wheels are stuck.
There's somethin' wrong here,
Like this whole city wants to scream,
But no one makes a sound.
But, you've got to feel it, baby.
So I'm going to find out what it is
And I'm going to tear it down
The engine's running, baby.
We don't have time for goodbyes.
I know you can't come with me.
I see that look in your eyes.
So kiss me fast
Cause there's no time to lose.
Leave the light on
I'll come back for you.
When everything is said and done,
I swear I'm gonna make it right.
I'm breaking out of here tonight.
I'm so tired of giving up.
I am so tired of giving in.
You wake up knowing things should change,
Not knowing where to begin.
This city won't say where she's going,
And she won't speak of where she's been.
So I'm breaking out of here tonight...
Don't turn your back on the city
Say a prayer for all
the children still sleeping.
Say a prayer for all the fathers
who still remember.
Say a prayer for all the girls
who've learned to stand up.
Say a prayer for all the boys
who won't surrender.
Sometimes I just want to drive
until the streets run out.
I want to burn until there's
nothing left to burn about.
This city's waiting for a better day.
When I get back there will be hell to pay.
But, if I'm the only one left standing,
I will not be afraid to fight.
I'm breaking out of here tonight.
I feel a fever coming on me,
burning out of control.
And I hear nothing but the static.
For years now there's been nothing
but the static on the radio.
If you can hear my voice outside these walls,
if you can hear me sending out this message tonight,
then break the silence, send a signal back.
I'm coming, all I need is a little guiding light.
...If you can hear me.
Don't turn your back on the city...
If you can hear me...
Don't turn your back on the city.
2.Intermission
My dearest Emily,
Tonight will mark the end of a life long dream of mine. The
completion of a labor I began as a child, even before I knew the
words for it... before I knew the ways to accomplish such a
task. And even now my heart is heavy with dread. I fear I've
built a great and powerful evil. Or rather, together, Albert and
I have bult it. I know that I am to blame. I allowed Albert to
persuade me to change the designs. I allowed this perversion of
my course. This new machine that we've built is unlike any I
ever imagined. It looks... like a man. A lifeless steel man.
Albert convinced me that even with the new Geological Unmanned
Terraforming System we designed, the task of extracting the ore
is still too dangerous for a human. He plans to completely
replace human workers in the mining sector. The idea of
displacing so many men... the annihilation of countless jobs in
the name of safety seems an unbalanced trade off. What is worse,
the latest prototypes have been revised to carry small firearms.
Emily, I fear that I have put you and this entire city in
danger. I will speak to him tonight on the matter. Perhaps I can
persuade him to scrap the whole project. In the meantime, please
be careful. This world is getting darker all the time. I weep at
the thought of something terrible happening to you. I could not
bear it.
All my love,
Tom'
In a workshop in a building overlooking the city
Two great men argued over whether or not to turn the wheels...
3.The Good Doctor
My father worked the mines until the day it took his life.
It stole him from his only son and it stole him from his wife.
And I swore upon his grave, someday I would make things right.
So I learned how to bend steel. I learned how to make it move,
and I watched as it withstood all the hell we put men through.
With hands of iron, there's not a task we couldn't do.
They've waited so long for this day,
Someone to take the death away,
No son would ever have to say,
'My father worked into his grave.'
Tom, listen to yourself, then listen carefully to me.
If you replace the working parts, you get a different machine.
The man who turns the wheels, they will follow
Anywhere he leads.
We've spent our whole lives searching
For a way to make a better world.
Giving everything to them, asking nothing in return.
Well here it is： our chance to take back everything we've
earned.
Tom： They've waited so long for this day (Albert： They've waited
so long for this day)
Someone to take the death away (There is no price they wouldn't
pay)
No son would ever have to say, (For someone else to lead them)
'My father worked into his grave.' (Don't turn your back on me!)
Light walked slowly to the window overlooking the city. He knew
he had no choice but to turn on the machines. They'd come so
far. To turn back now would be failure. Failure of his promise
to the city. Failure of his promise to his father. Failure of
the promise he'd made to himself.
What will I become with the things I will create？
I never said that men should bow. I never said that men should
break
I only want what's best.
The one I love, she works so hard, she works her fingers till
they bleed.
Some of the pain that she endures would bring a strong man to
his knees.
I only want to help.
(You are a fool.) You underestimate the character of man.
(They are weaker than you think) You think that they'll
surrender if you bind their working hands.
But they are strong (Just wait and see.)
We will build cities in a day (Man would cower at the sight)
We will build towers to the heavens (Man was not built for such
a height)
We will be heroes! (We will BUILD heroes!)
Tom reluctantly reached out his hand to the wall and pulled the
large metal lever.
For miles, lights flickered under the sudden strain as the
machines were brought to life.
They've waited so long for this day,
Someone to take the death away,
No son would ever have to say,
'My father worked into his grave.'
Men sleep tonight with hands of bone. They will awake with hands
of steel.
And with these hands we will destroy. And with these hands we
will rebuild.
And we will stand above our city, rising high above the streets.
From tops of buildings we will look
at all that lies beneath our feet.
We will raise our hands above us,
Cold steel shining in the sun,
And with these hands that will not bleed,
My father's battle will be won.
As Thomas Light left the workshop, descended the stairs, and
walked out in the cold night air, his partner surveyed the
machines they had spent their lives creating. His gaze shifted
from one pair of lifeless eyes to the next, until he came upon a
single red light shining through the blacked-out blast shield of
a dark green helmet. He shuddered. This was the new face of
fear. He quickly turned to exit, the machine striding stoically
a few steps behind. The two men were both headed to the same
place.
Thomas Light walked slowly through the darkened streets. His
mind was racing. His decision, right or wrong, had been made.
Nothing could undo it now. He spoke to himself in hurried,
hushed tones. Weighing the consequences of his actions. A
familiar automobile passed him in the darkness. He was too lost
in thought to take notice.
4.The Hounds
[Hours later, from the broadcasting room at the tower at the
center of the city]
Albert Wily was born for this moment. He answered the reporters'
eager questions about the disappearance of his partner calmly
and evenly with the story he'd rehearsed. Inside he was teeming
with contempt for these men who were turning the story from the
real headline：the unveiling of his newest marvel. A giant
telescreen just above their heads, mounted to the top of the
building, would within minutes broadcast information non-stop to
every citizen of the city. No matter. Soon these men and their
questions would be obsolete. He reluctantly turned his own
statements to the media frenzy at hand.
Tonight the streets are red,
The lights are blue and blinding.
No sign of the 'Good Doctor,'
But the siren's wail and whining
Tell us he'll be found.
He made his way to the window overlooking the city.
I can almost hear the hounds...
He turned back to the reporters.
What kind of man builds a machine to kill a girl？
No he did not use his hands.
Like a smart man, he used a tool.
But just the same,
How can you question who's to blame？
What was her name？
It doesn't matter.
Now listen...
'The Good Doctor' has to pay!
Stepping away from the throng of reporters, he looked at the
digital countdown above the nerve center of his broadcasting
controls. He whispered quietly to himself...
When I say he was a monster,
When I set fire to his name,
It does not matter where you hear it from,
Whether truth or lies,
It gets said all the same.
Glancing once again at the countdown, he spoke plainly to the
reporters.
Whatever's on the table plays!
1 minute, 46 seconds until the broadcast would begin
Wily shut the door on the tumult of voices continuing to shout
questions after him. He walked down the empty hallway and around
a corner and into the studio adjacent to his control room. A
pane of double-plated glass sealed out the bedlam of the
reporters. He watched as their mouths continued to hurl impotent
questions.
In the silence of the studio he didn't bother trying to make out
what they were saying. His eyes focused on a blinking red light
above the digital countdown. He spoke aloud. His words bounced
off the soundproofing glass. The cameras weren't yet rolling.
The microphones were not yet active. His words went unheeded for
the last time.
There is a flame I have been fanning.
There is a fire waiting to catch.
There is a hell that has been building
From the moment we first met.
58 seconds to air.
If there ever was a time,
If there ever was a chance,
To undo the things I've done
And wash these bloodstains from my hands,
49 seconds to air
It has passed and been forgotten.
These are the paths that we must take.
Cause you and I, Tom, we are men
And we can bend and we can break.
40 seconds to air.
If you think that you can run,
If you think that you can stand,
Well you forget who turned this city on.
You forget who plugged this city in!
30 seconds to air.
They'll not switch it off again.
He straightened his tie, knocked the wrinkles out of his suit
jacket and faced the camera lens.
One by one they're tuning in.
15 seconds to air.
At this very moment - his moment of glory - he wished he could
be out in the streets of the city. He wished he could hear the
hum of a thousand tubes, powering the screen, popping to life
and warming up simultaneously... wished he could feel the wave
of sound as they drew the attention of every person within the
walls of the city. His city. He wished he could float above the
streets as every person walked from their homes, left their
dinners, their polite conversations, their lives. Wished he
could be there as they filed out into the streets, fixed their
eyes on the giant screen, and waited.
3 seconds...
But Albert's place was here. His time was now. He cleared his
throat.
The red blinking light went solid...
Outside, on the giant screen, Wily's face came into focus. For
the first time, the people of the city looked to one man. They
saw the face of a leader. One man towering above the city.
After a few inspirational opening lines, Wily turned his
attention to the matter at hand. Thomas Light. He assured them
that the murderer would be apprehended. He promised them that
their city would be made safe again. They trusted him
completely.
5.The State Vs. Thomas Light
Thomas Light was picked up three days later in a beggars'
cemetery. Emily Stanton had been buried there an hour earlier.
She had no family. Her few acquaintances from the factory were
busy covering the hole she'd left in their workforce. A few
unmoving passages were read by a disaffected priest as her body
was slowly lowered into the cold ground. No one but the men paid
to cover her pine casket with earth heard his words. Even those
were drowned out by the more urgent ones booming from the large
telescreen. An hour after the ceremony, Light stepped out of the
tree line just beyond the grave. He staggered to the mound of
freshly moved earth and fell to his knees, tears pouring from
his eyes onto her grave. The police, too, had been waiting. He
didn't resist. The trial began within the week. The media circus
was phenomenal. The city saw a demon portrayed on the screen.
Every shred of evidence was dissected and rebuilt to incriminate
him. Constant news, facts, and rumors were forced upon and
absorbed by the masses.
Emily, The crowd has gathered here
But it is not because of you.
Emily, the taste of blood in their mouths,
I can't imagine what they'll do.
But it doesn't matter what they'll do to me.
Emily, have they forgotten you
When they set their sights on me？
They will hang me from the rope tonight
Will you be waiting there for me？
Will our souls remember where we said we'd meet
On the way out of this town？
I'm leaving one way or the other, Emily.
There's nothing left here for me now.
Emily, it's so quiet now.
It's like the calm before a storm.
They will punish me for what he did to you
But either way it's all my fault,
'Cause I made the man who laid his hands on you.
And I would tear him down, but I feel like a dead man
And what can a dead man do？
Turning his attention to the proceedings...
Here comes the blow.
We find the only man who loved her...
We find the only man who'd give his life
To see her once again... We find this man
The judge entered his chambers. The lawyers and jury filed out
of the courtroom, leaving Light, a free man, sitting silently
behind the defendant's table. The sound of the mob outside was
deafening. Even from within the thickly marbled walls of the
courthouse, their rage - their sense of injustice - were
palpable. Throughout the trial, the telescreen had told them
that their judicial system would ultimately fail them, that the
laws of the city were flawed, skewed to shelter monsters like
Light, powerless to protect the people. Impotent. Weak.
Dangerously out of touch with the times. Obviously, the screen
had been telling the truth. Now, it was telling the masses that
they would have to take matters into their own hands if justice
was to be served.
6.Give Us The Rope
A small contingent of policemen nervously escorted Light to the
door of the courtroom and out into the mob.
Give us the doctor!
Give us the rope!
Light was shuffled through the crowd and into an awaiting car.
Give us his hands!
Give us his feet!
Give us the doctor!
Give us the rope!
The car maneuvered slowly through the sea of people.
Give us a grave!
Give us a shovel!
Give us a marker!
Give us the doctor!
Give us the rope!
Light and his police escort slowly moved south through the
streets of the city. The commotion of the crowd finally faded in
the distance. With every man, woman and child at the courthouse,
the streets they traveled were empty and deserted. Knowing that
the crowd would surely be following, they accelerated rapidly
towards the old train station. Light's only chance was to get
out of town.
The station was oddly quiet. Vacant. In the distance, however,
he could hear the crowd advancing. Following. A crushing fear
overcame his crippling apathy. He quickly stepped from the
platform to the waiting train. It was completely empty. The
doors shut and the engine hissed and pulled away from the
station. Light looked across the skyline to the tower he'd
helped create. His gaze climbed to the top and stopped at the
giant screen. Albert's face was screaming at the crowd. Whipping
them into a frenzy. This was his city now.
Light was gone.
His name destroyed.
His work stolen.
His love murdered.
But the city...
The city was alive.
7.How The World Fell Under Darkness
The movement started slowly at first, but soon expanded
exponentially into every part of life. The old commuter train
that bore Light to his exile was bought and the track scrapped
and recycled to make way for a shining electromagnetic bullet
train. Sleek and silver, it tore through the city like a volt
across a wire, and as quickly as it moved, the city was
transformed around it.
Beneath the hammers of Wily's new army of metal workmen,
buildings were razed to the ground, leveled in a single morning.
New foundations were laid in the same afternoon. Structures,
metal frames piercing the clouds, were erected before nightfall.
Glass and steel wrapped the frames before the sun rose the next
day. Then the armies of machines would move onto the next task.
Never stopping. Never slowing. Never resting.
Morning after morning, the men and women of the city awoke to
find a bright new world. Everything was remade. Made better.
Made brighter. The streets were swept. The undesirables, the
homeless, the criminal element of the city, systematically
vanished.
The single screen on top of the tower sent out signals to the
now hundreds of satellite screens. The factories were fully
automated. The mines run entirely by machine. The men that found
themselves suddenly living lives of leisure crowded the bars,
slowly imbibing the generous severances they'd received, not so
much as a single ill word grumbled towards their replacements.
The city was a bright and shining beacon of light... a
steel-plated heaven.
Years passed.
A generation grew up within the metal arms that embraced the
city. The older generations never told them what the city looked
like before the machines. Why would they？ What good could come
from telling the children of the type of dark, filthy, and
dangerous world that men create when left to their own devices？
That once men slaved away deep inside the earth, risking death
for the sake of survival. That once women left their children,
still asleep in their beds, to grind away mindless hours in the
factories, sacrificing family to secure necessities.
This new world was so perfect that it seemed dangerous to speak
of the old world. As if this new city, sprung from a sea of
darkness, was balanced on a single point, teetering on a crucial
ignorance. It seemed that any misstep, any wrong word, could
topple the city, sinking it back in the sea, that dark abyss of
human suffering, leaving them with nothing. After all, they were
not the creators of this world. They were merely the recipients
of a gift. A gift given to them by a single man and his
countless steel hands. And just as easily as it was given,
couldn't it be taken away？
An unspoken fear dangled above the heads of every man and woman.
Keeping them silent. Keeping them safe.
Even so, rumors started. Ghost stories of a demon. A beast with
a single red eye. He that would pluck you from your bed at night
if you were found with a dissenting word on your tongue. Mothers
told children to stay close as they traveled through the
streets, keep a smile on their faces, and never speak ill of the
machines.
A generation grew up inside the metal hands that gently circled
the neck of the city. Some of them grew up hating the city,
fearing the machines. There was one boy in particular. His name
was Joe.
8.Keep Quiet
I've seen your face in the shadows.
I've seen your face in the places I wasn't meant to be.
I've heard them whisper about you.
I've heard the men in the bars
And I've seen the women lock their doors at night
They say your eyes are on fire.
They say you'd kill a man for walking the wrong side of the line
But men, they say a lot of foolish things
And n the end the only words I can find to believe in are mine.
They say
This city, she's been dead for years now... for years now.
So death is not something that scares me... that scares me.
There's worse things than death here.
They told me...
Keep quiet.
I will not be told where to stand!
I will not be told what to say.
Not by man or machine,
Not by you,
Not by anyone tonight!
You're gonna have to do better than fear.
You're gonna have to step out of the shadows and fight.
And when they see your face again,
They will know what it means
To have fear dragged out into the light.
Drag it out!
Human Choir：
This city, she's been dead for years now... for years now.
So death is not something that scares me... that scares me.
There's worse things than death here.
So come on!
Come on!
Step into the light!
The red-eyed assassin stepped from the shadows. He'd been
keeping pace with a motorcycle racing at top speed for an hour,
yet he showed no sign of fatigue. The gray-haired man watched
from the alley tensing visibly as the machine revealed itself.
Joe slowly backed away from the bike, deliberately withdrawing
towards the gray-haired man in the alley. He stopped as his foot
brushed against something solid.
The sniper robot's hand never ocne went for the gun at its side.
It leaned in, a large blade clenched in its left fist, waiting
for the proper moment.
This city, she's been dead for years now... for years now.
So death is not something that scares me... that scares me.
There's worse things
Than death here
There's loss and there's silence and sadness.
Joe's hands were shaking.
So come on,
Come on,
Just open your mouths and revive it.
Joe leaned forward and charged towards the machine. If he was
going to die, he would go down swinging. He plunged his shoulder
into the chest of the automaton. With every bit of strength he
could summon, Joe thrust upward, and both man and machine left
the ground in an arc. By the time they slammed back into the
asphalt, the machine was on top, its cold hands tightening
around Joe'e neck. The impact sent the pipe bounding far from
Joe's reach. Joe's fingers clawed at the smooth metal covering
the machine, searching for a chink in its armor. His hand found
the gun instead.
The light of the blast was painful, even through Joe's closed
eyes. He opened them slowly. Carefully. He found the machine
lying several feet away, immobilized, with a smoking hole in its
chest. Its red eye fading and flickering. Joe rose. He
approached the machine. He pointed the gun at the robot's head
and slid his finger over the trigger, steeling himself for the
blast. The gray-haired man stopped him. The man knelt down - his
face inches from the machine's - and spoke, his voice gruff and
trembling.
'I built this. It's mine to destroy.'
With surprising speed, his right hand shot to Joe's boot and
withdrew the knife. With his left hand he grabbed the machine by
the jugular-shaped electrical conduit at its throat and sliced.
A single swift blow. The eye went dark. The machine was dead.
The two faced each other in the middle of the street. Joe's
labored breaths drowning out the telescreen in the distance.
'My name is Thomas Light...'
Returning to the lifeless machine at his feet, Light motioned
for the speechless Joe to assist him. Together, they dragged the
remains of the murderer out of the light and into the protection
of the alley. Light sheathed the knife into Joe's boot holster
and turned back to the machine. He examined the assassin for a
few seconds and nodded. With a few deft motions, he detached the
dark green helmet from the body of the robot, tossing it to Joe.
'Here... try this on.'
9.Light Up The Night
This city's sleeping like a soldier
Trapped inside of an iron lung.
Machines can keep you breathing
But what happens when you find a new war's begun？
Flip a switch and turn it off, you won't be able to breathe.
So either way you're a casualty.
I've got this burning like my veins are filled
With nothing but gasoline.
And with a spark,
It's gonna be the biggest fire they've ever seen.
Cut me down or let me run,
Either way it's all gonna burn...
The only way that they'll ever learn
We've got to turn it off,
Flip a switch.
Light up the night!
There is a city that this darkness can't hide.
There are the embers of a fire that's gone out,
But I can still feel the heat on my skin
This mess we're in, well you and I,
Maybe you and I,
We can still make it right.
Maybe we can bring back the light.
At the heart of the city there is a building that looks down
over all there is.
And the man in the tower controls it all without raising a
single fist.
It's like they gathered up the city, they sold it to the devil,
and now
It's gone to hell and they wonder how.
Well, a friend once told me：
Men, they would follow any man who would turn the wheels.
Now the wheels are spinning out of control; what would they do
if we held them still？
If you destroy the working parts, what you'll get is a broken
machine.
A beacon of light from a burning screen.
Light it up.
Light up the night.
There is a city that this darkness can't hide.
There are the embers of a fire that's gone out,
But I can still feel the heat on my skin.
This mess we're in, well you and I,
Maybe you and I,
We can light up the night.
They made their plans carefully. Spending hours on the details.
If Joe could reach the main telescreen on top of the tower in
the center of the city - Wily's tower - he could take out the
central transmitter. He could stop the broadcasts going out to
the satellite screens. He could stop the broadcasts going out to
the machines. He could take out Albert's eyes.
With Wily blinded, Light could reenter the city undetected. He
could complete the task that he had obsessed over for more than
twenty years. He could kill Albert Wily. A prisoner caged on the
edge of the city, this was Light's chance. His chance not only
at freedom, but to exact revenge. To kill his judge, his warden,
and the man who'd built his prison. To destroy the man who'd
taken everything from him - his life's work, his name, his love.
There is a city that this darkness can't hide.
There are the embers of a fire that's gone out,
But I can still feel the heat on my skin.
This mess we're in, well you and I,
maybe you and I,
We can light up the night.
There is a city that this darkness can't hide
There is a fire that will burn through the streets of the city,
and we will stand in the light.
We will stand in the light,
you and I.
You and I.
We can bring back the light.
With Wily's assassin out of the way, they had a small and
rapidly closing window. The sniper robot would soon be missed.
Their plan finally secure, Light locked the green helmet under
Joe's chin and handed him the bag of explosives. 'Go!' he
shouted.
10.The Fall
Joe kicked the motorcycle's engine back to life. He spun the
bike and raced towards the city. Passing under the cold glow of
screen after menacing screen. Reports coming in of an incident
in the outer rim. Reports of an armed assailant. Reports of a
growing threat to public safety.
Choir：
Climb.
Joe tore through the streets. A missile aimed at the metal spire
towering above the city. The great steel arm holding a torch of
fear. The main telescreen was designed to be visible from almost
anywhere in the city. The destruction of that screen would be
felt by every man and every woman in the city. He thought of the
children. How, for the first time, they would know a world
without that screen. Without the constant, mind-numbing barrage
of misinformation. Silence. Had he ever encountered silence？
Soon.
Climb.
The street was ending. Joe revved the engine. No hesitation. No
fear. The motorcycle bounded over the curb, launched off the
steps in front of the tower, and landed jarringly upon the hard,
slick marble of the plaza. Losing traction, the tires skidded
out ahead of the heavy iron frame. The bike pitched. Joe kicked
hard against the bike. Inertia kept him glued to it. He rolled
over on to his stomach and clawed frantically at the smooth
marble, trying to slow himself.
Climb to the top of the world.
The bike would not be slowed. It slid rapidly toward the main
entrance. The steel doors secured tightly for the evening. The
wheels caught on the final few steps leading up to the doors.
The bike spun upright and left the marble floor. 600 pounds of
iron and chrome roared, end over end, towards the entrance,
crashed into the steel doors, and exploded. Joe's momentum
halted just inches from the steps. Sirens erupted around him.
And as you stand tall, you will see...
He pushed himself to his feet and ran towards the flames.
Hurdling the mangled carcass of the bike, he entered the tower
lobby and headed for the stairs. Flight after flight, Joe took
two and three steps at a time. His chest nearly collapsed under
the strain. His legs never hesitated. Finally, he reached the
door leading to the roof. Joe kicked hard and stepped into the
cool night air. He had to act quickly. He threw his bag down
next to the transmitter. Reaching inside, he wrapped his hands
around the detonator. Holding it tightly, he turned and started
back to the stairs.
That when you fall...
He'd taken three long strides when the explosion ripped his feet
from the tarred roof. Joe didn't hear the explosion. The shock
wave of the blast knocked him unconscious instantaneously.
You will fall from a height most men will never reach.
Light had nearly reached the plaza. He watched as the flames
erupted from the top of the shimmering tower, setting aglow the
clouds above. Among the debris cast off the bulding by the
explosion, he spotted what could only be a human body, twisting
lifelessly as it plummeted towards the earth. Light held onto
the hope that the falling body was not the one he feared it must
be. As it approached the ground, Light's fears were confirmed as
he made out the glare of the flames above reflected in a scarred
blast shield. He watched as Joe's body landed with a dull thump
upon the small patch of grass in a courtyard on the south side
of the building.
By the time Light had reached the boy's body, a crowd had
gathered. As he stood in the center of the circle of onlookers,
another explosion rattled the ground. Then another. And another.
In the distance he could see, one by one, the telescreens
splintering and erupting into flames.
11.Here Comes The Arm
Emily, a crowd has gathered here
And once again they fail to see.
You can't just set the world at someone else's feet
And not get trampled underneath.
And I think somehow Joe knew it,
He paid the price he thought he had to pay,
But Emily, that debt was meant for me...
That debt was meant for me.
This is not the world my father knew.
This is not the world, I know,
He would have wanted me to build,
But I can't undo it now.
It's like a train, and all it's cars are filled with steel,
That I would stop if I knew how.
And it is bearing down on me.
So I will stand here with my shoulders square and tall,
And when the whistle blows, not falter,
But when the crash comes I will fall.
With so much steam and steel behind it,
I won't slow it down at all.
Oh God...
Oh God...
Here comes the arm.
'Thomas,
Please don't cry for me
I know you never meant for this
I love you completely
Just remember that if I should leave you now
Then in my final hour
I pray this letter finds you well before it all goes to hell
He could never cage the world
It's too big for anyone, and soon the dark will pass
I want so much to be with you but in my heart I know
Tom, the city needs you now
Joe, when you see Emily,
Tell her to wait for me.
'Cause I still have work to do...
This city needs you now.
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