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Dear Clarice

This song is by Hans Zimmer.

Dear Clarice...
I have followed|with enthusiasm...
The course of your disgrace|and public shaming.
My own never bothered me...
Except for the inconvenience|of being incarcerated.
But you may lack perspective.
In our discussions|down in the dungeon...
It was apparent to me|that your father...
The dead night watchman...
Figures largely|in your value system.
I think your success|in putting an end...
To Jame Gumb's career|as a couturier...
Pleased you most...
Because you could imagine|your father being pleased.
But now, alas, you're in|bad odor with the FBI.
Do you imagine your daddy|being shamed by your disgrace?
Do you see him|in his plain pine box...
Crushed by your failure?
The sorry, petty end|of a promising career?
What is worst about|this humiliation, Clarice?
Is it how your failure...
Will reflect|on your mommy and daddy?
Is your worst fear that people|will now and forever...
Believe they were indeed...
Just good old trailer camp,|tornado-bait, white trash?
And that perhaps you are, too?
By the way,|I couldn't help noticing...
On the FBI's|rather dull public website...
That I have been hoisted...
From the Bureau's archives|of the common criminal...
And elevated|to the more prestigious...
Ten Most Wanted List.
Is this coincidence,|or are you back on the case?
If so, goody goody.
I need to come out of retirement|and return to public life.
Clearly this new assignment|is not your choice.
Rather, I suppose it is|part of the bargain...
But you accepted it, Clarice.
Your job is to craft my doom.
So I am not sure how well|I should wish you...
But I'm sure|we'll have a lot of fun.
Ta-ta.

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