Текст песни How The World Fell Under Darkness (The Protomen) с переводом

[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 I’ll 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 I’ll 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.]

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