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
4th quarter earnings 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 killers' 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 cities 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 mothers 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.
Propagandhi - Potemkin City Limits Lyrics
Propagandhi - Potemkin City Limits Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
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
4th quarter earnings 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 killers' 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 cities 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 mothers 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.
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
4th quarter earnings 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 killers' 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 cities 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 mothers 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.