In-Con Sequential Art
Tuesday
Nov102015

Diamond in the Rough [Fallout 4]

It starts with a bang
A boom, a rumbling of doom
A mushroom cloud distilled into neutron perfume
Who's at fault? We assume this assault will entomb us 
in wombs of basalt or in vaults if there's room
Are we lucky? Oh, fuck me; no cover or ducking 
can buck trends of suck, we're tits-up in the muck
Hey, a truck! Grab a rail and we'll roll down the vale 
out of hell into heaven; To Vault One-Eleven!
Skip seven or so generations; the nations 
have fallen and all of our patience for stalling
Has ended; my friends, it is time we ascended! 
To fend and befriend all those squalling and bawling 
in squalor; my two cents, on pretense, since I wince 
at the state of the dollar in currency's absence
It's madness, but hey; hold the pity
Get the dog and we'll trod all the way to the Waste's Walking City

Oh we're goin'... we're goin' to Boston
I'm packin' my suitcase and I'm sayin' so long
'Cause I'm bound for the town where the bottlecaps pave the ground
We're goin' to Boston, we're already gone, we're already gone
 
Be it barter or bullets or battery beams
Choose your means, 'cause your suit's looking frayed at the seams
And that vault's in the rearview of this sweet corvega
Dragged dead in the ditch by that glitched-out bodega
It's bottlecaps these days, I hear
Pop open a Nuka, there's your change for a beer
No more fussy facade of a bland vegetarian
It's blood, battle, meat, like Grognak the Barbarian
Didn't you used to read those old stories?
Well, it's real now; keep watch for those wild cazadores
Deathclaws and nightstalkers; so many ways to get dead
It's depressing; hey, pick up that cool bobblehead!
Pip-Boy says the Institute's on the horizon
My dad's pal House once went there; hey, let's go surprise 'im!
Like that dude's still alive, right? Shit, it's getting dark
Make a camp, 'cause tomorrow we hit Fenway Park

Oh we're goin'... we're goin' to Boston
I'm packin' my suitcase and I'm sayin' so long
'Cause I'm bound for the town where the bottlecaps pave the ground
We're goin' to Boston, we're already gone, we're already gone
 
Don't bore all with more vault nostalgia again
If I want flashbacks, I'll hit the Memory Den
That place is back thataway, and we're way out here
On the Constitution, floating over Paul Revere
It's a long way behind us, don't pay to remind us
There's no going home if the Enclave boys find us
Neither Fat Boy nor Shishkebab pack enough heat
If the synths catch our scents we're both ended, capiche?

Diamond City's enough of a home for the nonce
Tea parties at the shore with mutfruit and scones
Sunbathing on the gold dome of the state house at noon
While Three Dog howls intros when the Rat Pack boys croon
I miss hot showers, oodles of clean water, tub wine
But I've got Power Noodles, neat monsters, sunshine
A little RadAway in my rum punch and I'm golden
No gods, no masters; that's the life that I've chosen

Oh we're goin'... we're goin' to Boston
I'm packin' my suitcase and I'm sayin' so long
'Cause I'm bound for the town where the bottlecaps pave the ground
We're goin' to Boston, we're already gone, we're already gone