"The Hounds" lyrics
(Hours later, from the broadcasting room at the tower at the center of the city...)
Albert Wily was born for this moment. He answered the reporters' eager questions about the disappearance of his partner calmly and evenly with the story he'd rehearsed. Inside he was teeming with contempt for these men who were turning the story from the real headline: the unveiling of his newest marvel. A giant telescreen just above their heads, mounted to the top of the building, would within minutes broadcast information non-stop to every citizen of the city. No matter. Soon these men and their questions would be obsolete. He reluctantly turned his own statements to the media frenzy at hand
Tonight the streets are red
The lights are blue and blinding
No sign of the "Good Doctor,"
But the siren's wail and whining
Tell us he'll be found
He made his way to the window overlooking the city
I can almost hear the hounds...
He turned back to the reporters
What kind of man builds a machine to kill a girl?
No he did not use his hands
Like a smart man, he used a tool
But just the same
How can you question who's to blame?
What was her name?
Doesn't matter, now listen-
"The Good Doctor" has to pay!
Stepping away from the throng of reporters, he looked at the digital countdown above the nerve center of his broadcasting controls. He whispered quietly to himself...
When I say he was a monster
When I set fire to his name
It does not matter where you hear it from
Whether truth or lies, it gets said all the same
Glancing once again at the countdown, he spoke plainly to the reporters
Whatever's on the table plays!
1 minute, 46 seconds until the broadcast would begin
Wily shut the door on the tumult of voices continuing to shout questions after him. He walked down the empty hallway and around a corner and into the studio adjacent to his control room. A pane of double-plated glass sealed out the bedlam of the reporters. He watched as their mouths continued to hurl impotent questions
In the silence of the studio he didn't bother trying to make out what they were saying. His eyes focused on a blinking red light above the digital countdown. He spoke aloud. His words bounced off the soundproofing glass. The cameras weren't yet rolling. The microphones were not yet active. His words went unheeded for the last time
There is a flame that I've been fanning
There is a fire waiting to catch
There is a hell that has been building
From the moment we first met
58 seconds to air
If there ever was a time
If there ever was a chance
To undo the things I've done
And wash these bloodstains from my hands
49 seconds to air
It has passed and been forgotten
These are the paths that we must take
Cause you and I, Tom, we are men
And we can bend and we can break
40 seconds to air
If you think that you can run
If you think that you can stand
Well you forget who turned this city on
You forget who plugged this city in!
30 seconds to air
They'll not switch it off again
He straightened his tie, knocked the wrinkles out of his suit jacket and faced the camera lens
One by one they're tuning in
15 seconds to air
At this very moment - his moment of glory - he wished he could be out in the streets of the city. He wished he could hear the hum of a thousand tubes, powering the screen, popping to life and warming up simultaneously... wished he could feel the wave of sound as they drew the attention of every person within the walls of the city. His city. He wished he could float above the streets as every person walked from their homes, left their dinners, their polite conversations, their lives. Wished he could be there as they filed out into the streets, fixed their eyes on the giant screen, and waited
3 seconds...
But Albert's place was here. His time was now. He cleared his throat
The red blinking light went solid...
Outside, on the giant screen, Wily's face came into focus. For the first time, the people of the city looked to one man. They saw the face of a leader. One man towering above the city
After a few inspirational opening lines, Wily turned his attention to the matter at hand. Thomas Light. He assured them that the murderer would be apprehended. He promised them that their city would be made safe again. They trusted him completely
Albert Wily was born for this moment. He answered the reporters' eager questions about the disappearance of his partner calmly and evenly with the story he'd rehearsed. Inside he was teeming with contempt for these men who were turning the story from the real headline: the unveiling of his newest marvel. A giant telescreen just above their heads, mounted to the top of the building, would within minutes broadcast information non-stop to every citizen of the city. No matter. Soon these men and their questions would be obsolete. He reluctantly turned his own statements to the media frenzy at hand
Tonight the streets are red
The lights are blue and blinding
No sign of the "Good Doctor,"
But the siren's wail and whining
Tell us he'll be found
He made his way to the window overlooking the city
I can almost hear the hounds...
He turned back to the reporters
What kind of man builds a machine to kill a girl?
No he did not use his hands
Like a smart man, he used a tool
But just the same
How can you question who's to blame?
What was her name?
Doesn't matter, now listen-
"The Good Doctor" has to pay!
Stepping away from the throng of reporters, he looked at the digital countdown above the nerve center of his broadcasting controls. He whispered quietly to himself...
When I say he was a monster
When I set fire to his name
It does not matter where you hear it from
Whether truth or lies, it gets said all the same
Glancing once again at the countdown, he spoke plainly to the reporters
Whatever's on the table plays!
1 minute, 46 seconds until the broadcast would begin
Wily shut the door on the tumult of voices continuing to shout questions after him. He walked down the empty hallway and around a corner and into the studio adjacent to his control room. A pane of double-plated glass sealed out the bedlam of the reporters. He watched as their mouths continued to hurl impotent questions
In the silence of the studio he didn't bother trying to make out what they were saying. His eyes focused on a blinking red light above the digital countdown. He spoke aloud. His words bounced off the soundproofing glass. The cameras weren't yet rolling. The microphones were not yet active. His words went unheeded for the last time
There is a flame that I've been fanning
There is a fire waiting to catch
There is a hell that has been building
From the moment we first met
58 seconds to air
If there ever was a time
If there ever was a chance
To undo the things I've done
And wash these bloodstains from my hands
49 seconds to air
It has passed and been forgotten
These are the paths that we must take
Cause you and I, Tom, we are men
And we can bend and we can break
40 seconds to air
If you think that you can run
If you think that you can stand
Well you forget who turned this city on
You forget who plugged this city in!
30 seconds to air
They'll not switch it off again
He straightened his tie, knocked the wrinkles out of his suit jacket and faced the camera lens
One by one they're tuning in
15 seconds to air
At this very moment - his moment of glory - he wished he could be out in the streets of the city. He wished he could hear the hum of a thousand tubes, powering the screen, popping to life and warming up simultaneously... wished he could feel the wave of sound as they drew the attention of every person within the walls of the city. His city. He wished he could float above the streets as every person walked from their homes, left their dinners, their polite conversations, their lives. Wished he could be there as they filed out into the streets, fixed their eyes on the giant screen, and waited
3 seconds...
But Albert's place was here. His time was now. He cleared his throat
The red blinking light went solid...
Outside, on the giant screen, Wily's face came into focus. For the first time, the people of the city looked to one man. They saw the face of a leader. One man towering above the city
After a few inspirational opening lines, Wily turned his attention to the matter at hand. Thomas Light. He assured them that the murderer would be apprehended. He promised them that their city would be made safe again. They trusted him completely
Writer(s): Joseph Dean Ash Jr., Calvin Ross Dykes, Robert Wayne Kee
