hanging by the threads and soaking in the squalor 
X's on the walls 
don't check the living rooms or city halls 
check the freeway 
check the gutter 
check the prison 
check the weather 
then bury the remains at the truck stop 
the furnace is roaring bright but their hands are tied 
ten footprints disappear into the night 
a train of though derailed and recaptured 
then a rupture results from tiny cracks on the inside 
the cities rise and highways lead
a mass of citizens caught in between 
executives and amputees 
we're inside still trapped inside with no way out 
it's a critical mass of younger minds 
taking up space taking up time falling short of projected 
design 
made up for it in volume size 
can the resource be tapped to re-energize
and fill the gaps inform hold back 
keep the peace or launch the sneak attack 
crushing the world with one hand behind our backs 
the cities rise and highways lead 
a mass of citizens caught in between 
executives and amputees