Potemkin City Limits Propagandhi

Francis didn't give a fuck about the rollbacks
The overproduction, reduced demand
He 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

Fourth quarter earning expectations
Expedited the 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
We somehow still cling to

The storylines that bridge the chasms
Between cognition and belief
Any old implausible denial
That might offer some relief