inner monologue

i wake up each day, staring out this same window, waiting for this city to burn to the ground, but there it is, still standing, industrial capital of the century they call it, smoke stacks reaching to the sky, clouding the mourning sun, people like ants scurrying on the surface streets, pathetic, but i call it home, and its my duty to see she takin care of, they say im a little maniacal even for a washed up bounty hunter, but in a city like this, you got to be a little broken to see what slips threw the cracks, and until hell freezes over ill be here to protect her, my city, ocher city

*CSI music*