Protomen - the Comm ~ View topic - The Name That Can Mean Anything

Joined: 14 Jul 2009 Posts: 50

Greetings, fellow members of the resistance!

A while back, I posted lyrics for a Protomen "Fan-Song" about the X series, and almost completely forgot about it until I found the old wordpad document with the lyrics deep in my hard drive...

Now, I've decided to actually compose some music for it! I'll do a version with the lyrics added as soon as possible, but for now, I'll just leave this here. By the way, there have been a few revisions to the lyrics, so the version I posted before won't really fit with the music.

Hopefully it'll hold everyone while we wait for Act III!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7gdhfNts_M

Joined: 02 Dec 2008 Posts: 2195 Location: The City

YOU'RE BACK! =O

Awesome work!

Joined: 21 Mar 2012 Posts: 25 Location: The City

I can't wait to hear it with the lyrics Very Happy

Joined: 14 Jul 2009 Posts: 50

Alrighty, here goes...

...I'm actually kinda embarassed about how it turned out. ^^; After I finished it, I noticed a whole bunch of mistakes I made when singing this song... IMHO, It sounded a lot better in my head than it actually does...

But then again, I guess that's what I freaking get for trying to imitate Panther's "Dr. Light" voice... O.o

Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7kZ33_0WoE

Anyway, LINER NOTES AND LYRICS TIME!!!
(If you're following them, please note that the music only starts when the lyrics do, as I haven't made an instrumental part toward the front to make it long enough to symbolize that... However, I more than likely will in the final version! Picking up where Sons of Fate left off...)
---------

Battered, bloodied, Light barely fought his way through the mob that poured into the flailing machine of death, feeding it the blood and flesh that it so insatiably craved. He fought against the current of the raging sea of mankind, for he knew what death beckoned for him upon the battleground. Before he even realized it, he had shambled 15 floors up, halfway to his room in the run-down tenement that had been his home. When he finally arrived he gazed through his window and saw the fortress in the distance, the tempestuous crowd now a raging whirlpool of chaos; those fleeing from thier iron-clad executioners ran in the opposite direction of others who rushed toward the madness, simply to watch the carnage. In the end, it all only served to cause more and more men to fall, regardless of their goal.

Just when Tom believed that his heart could sink no further into the depths of his being, it plummetted as far down as the street was to him at the sight.

And then, miles further when he glanced about his empty, disheveled room, and realized he was alone. Again. He watched his first son die a second time, then watched his second scurry off into the night. His knees gave way, and he fell to the floor, holding himself up against the wall. His face remained expressionless, and his mouth gave forth no voice. Only tears streamed down from his eyes as he sat there in the darkness and silence. He began to realize that this must be his fate. Everything he ever loved left him before long, and often because of his mistake. His father; he failed. Emily, he failed. Joe, he sent to his death, and his first son followed suit. The weight of all this was just too heavy, and Light finally broke down, laying on the floor by the window... And he stayed there...

For three days he lingered in his misery, not the slightest twitch of movement since that night. If anyone were to find him there, they would have assumed him to be dead. But that was just it; he WAS dead. He still breathed, but on the inside, he was indeed a dead man.

And as his soul festered, in place of what would be the maggot, and the stench of death that would have come with rotting flesh, the foul product of his emotional demise was a burning pain in his very core... One that grew hotter and hotter as the days he spent lying there went on, and by the third day, it could no longer be contained. At the break of midnight, he sprang up, and let out a visceral, primal scream that came from the meltdown in his soul. Weak and starving, it continued as a pitiful whimper as his shaky legs brought him to the ground again. And again, he lost consciousness.

As soon as he rose up the second time, he slowly ascended with a look in his eyes unlike any that had occupied him before. Madness was knocking at the door. All he could think about was the concept embodied in the words that spun through his brain:

"Wily will pay."

And just as it was with the birth of his second son, Light began to throw together parts in a fit of passion. Only this one would take him even further than he went last time. More years passed, and he would stalk the streets at night, gathering parts from the fallen among Wily's robot army, and using the equipment unknowingly provided by his nemesis, Light's creative genius led him to forge a technology unseen before even by the City. A new son would soon be born; a son armed with the might of a thousand slain killing machines crying out for revenge, shielded with the collective armor of a fallen robot army, with all former flaws, which had been laid bare, now fixed to make it impenetrable. All of this fury stayed by the wisdom of an old and brilliant man who began to feel a faint spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, something he has done may actually result in a brighter future.

He had learned from his previous two sons, the ones who lost faith in those they were born to protect. He would not let this happen again. Once he was finished with his work, he sat down at his computer and began a different project; the one final, costly measure that he hoped would ensure his success; A program made to simulate all the possible ways the situation could get worse. As his new son slept, he hooked the cable from the computer into his brain, and set the schedule: for 30 years, the program would run, and if somehow, his mind is able to endure without falling to the darkness, he would awaken and lay waste to whatever vestige of Wily's iron-fisted opression would be left, for he was certain that he was a man who had worked far too hard for his legacy to only last one lifetime.

Light knew he would never meet his son.

And should fate see fit to let him wake, Light had prepared even stronger tools for him to accomplish his mission, hidden away deep in the ruins of the city, and one within the very basement of the building he lived in, where he set up a system that would surpass the gaps of time although he could not: a machine that would show his image, play his voice, to his son and give him guidance though he would then be long gone.

It was Emily who taught him that.

Dr. Light stood in front of his camera, and began recording his first message...

Tom:
This city won't respect a man,
Who wants to do what's right...
She'll throw a burden on his back,
And then she will force him to fight...
But I am so tired of fighting, son,
And I'm so tired of being tired...
I just want it all to stop...

Is that too much to want? To want it all to stop?

Sometimes I poke my head above the shadows,
And try to run this losing race,
As if there's something I could give,
That could begin to help this place...
But when I do this city gets a shovel,
And, oh, my dear, dear child, she gets a shovel...
And shovels dung right in my face.

So that is why I'm doing this,
For one sure and final time...
You will atone for all my error,
And you will clear this name of mine...

The Final Son of Light,
And if you get this right,
Maybe someday...
We will finally win this fight...

I know that I won't live to see it,
But then, there is no other way...
I've given you far too much power,
To let you straddle shades of gray...

All that I can do is hope while you lie sleeping,
That tomorrow,
Will be a brighter day...

And yes, I know him all too well,
The man who runs this town,
He is a man who's much to stubborn,
To let time take him down...

Whatever he may send against you,
Be sure you let his children know,
That that hand you use is mine,
To deal the striking blow!

Though by the time you get this message,
I know that I will not be there,
But if you find the words I've spoken,
Then you can hear my voice from anywhere!

So take this steel to stand your ground,
And this iron to guard your chest,
Because I have faith in those thirty years,
I've set to put you to the test!

No telling what you'll have to be,
To withstand what the future brings,
And that is why I call you "X",
A name that can mean anything!

Joined: 21 Mar 2012 Posts: 25 Location: The City

Fuck me, this is actually really fucking good.

If you want to continue the story, let me know. I write, record, mix and produce industrial metal albums of my own and I'm damn sure I could imitate Act I's sound well enough for a knockoff project.

EDIT: Also if it were me, I'd take some of the bits and rearrange it to give it a real proper chorus. Given the title, the last stanza (or even the last two) would do just fine.

EDIT 2: Also if it were me, I would totally change the drum beat to be the same one from Funeral For A Son (and the end of The Stand) since this is Light bringing forth his final son; the same way Funeral For A Son's drum beat works out that same way. I dunno if I'm making any sense but it'd further along the connection?

Joined: 21 Mar 2012 Posts: 25 Location: The City

Joined: 29 Mar 2009 Posts: 376 Location: Unknown

Joined: 02 Dec 2008 Posts: 2195 Location: The City

I like it ^^

Joined: 30 May 2012 Posts: 4

Hell yeah you should keep this story going, its honestly rockin. and you do a damn fine panther impression.

Dude, bravo. I dig. I'd be willing to help out, too, if you decide to continue. I'm not sure how much use I'd be, but I do a little composing with Sibelius, play bass, and write plenty. I also voice act, so I'm pretty good with Audacity for putting filters and such on lyrics. Any, point is, you rock, hope to seem more, willing to help!