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Father Of Death Lyrics


Protomen Father Of Death


Tom: What have I done?
Though I did not pull the trigger, I built the gun that
he holds in in his hand.
Last night I dreamed I climbed to the top of a mountain
of metal
and for miles I could see the destruction of man.
I will not be the father of death.

Darling Emily, everything that I have done, I have done
for you,
but it's turned out all wrong.
Can I take it back? Can I turn off this machine
before it destroys everything that I've loved?

I will find a way to make this right!
I will find a way, Emily.
I will not be the father of death!

[Emily Stanton climbed the stairs to her beloved's
apartment, a folded letter in her hand. Tom had been so
busy with his work these last few months, they'd barely
seen one another. This, instead, was how they'd
communicated. The door at the top of the stairs was
cracked open. She called out to Tom as she entered the
darkened room. A man was bent over the desk rummaging
through the drawers frantically. It was Albert Wily. He
turned, startled, and looked at Emily; the hint of a
smile crossed his face. He motioned, not at Emily, but
at the figure standing in the shadows behind her. The
machine shut the door obediently.]

Emily: What are you doing here? (Albert: Let me take
you away.)
I'm not going anywhere. (He will be nothing when this
runs its course.)
He will be everything that a man
is supposed to be.

If the shadow blocks out the sun... there will be
light!
If it stays 'till the sun is set... there will be
light!
If the sun never shows its face again... there will be
light!
No matter how dark the city gets... there will be...

[Albert Wily's eyes grew cold as Emily's rejection of
him became clear. He turned to the machine standing at
the door and quickly slid his finger across his own
throat. The robot moved silently towards Emily as Wily
slid through the window, onto the fire escape, and into
the streets below. Emily ran to the window, following
his escape, but the machine was too quick. Its cold
hands caught the soft flesh of her arm. She opened her
mouth to scream but the warm tearing of a cold blade
across her neck aborted the sound.

Even as Thomas Light climbed the stairs to his
apartment, he sensed something was wrong. He opened the
door, crossed through, and locked it behind him. As his
eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, the first
thing he made out was a red light pulsing slowly on the
fire escape. A moment passed as Light tried to
reconcile the image of a machine he'd just left at his
workshop, with the figure now towering outside his
window. His gaze drifted from the shaded helmet of the
machine to its hand and to the knife it gripped,
dripping deep crimson droplets onto the toe of its
black boots. The machine tossed the knife in through
the window, and leapt to the ground below. Light's eyes
followed the arc of the blade to the floor, to Emily.

Sirens approached in the distance.

Thomas held his darling Emily in his arms, pulling her
close to his chest. Shaking silently.

Footsteps rang out from the stairwell. A fist rapped
violently against the door. Thomas didn't notice. He
slowly brushed the hair from Emily's face and kissed
her forehead. A single tear falling from his own eyes
to hers. In her hand, a folded letter with his name
scrawled carelessly on the front.

The sound of the door splintering finally shook Light
from his mournful reverie. He pocketed the note and
lowered his love to the ground as he inched slowly to
the edge of the open window.

His actions were met with the hollow click of rounds
being loaded into chambers. He began howling
incoherently to the policemen about renegade robots and
red lights in blast shields. The only responses he
received were nervous faces and fingers inching toward
triggers. In grief and desperation, Light turned and
threw himself from the window.

Shots shattered the hush of the sleeping city.

Light's tumbling body flattened the roof of a car
parked below. The air was thrust from his lungs. His
right arm was shattered, but he was alive. He rolled
from the car onto the shards of glass lying on the
street below, shredding his hands and knees. Gasping
for air and retching violently on the pavement, for the
first time in his life not thinking about the future,
Light scrambled to his feet and disappeared into the
darkness.]



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