City on a Hill - Genghis Tron

We take pride in our short sights

Our past horrors

Shout coarsely with a long stick

Lest we seem sane

We’re strangers

Pulling stolen reigns

I’m not proud

We’re staging an ugly fable

Our hands are awash with lies

Most blame will fall

On this useless mob

Their bloodlust grows

Our whips blow back

It grows

They’ll snap our necks

All we are--all we’ll be

Is so wrong