March… march… march, yeah! Turtle march to doom, slow and true. Shell to shell, in battle lines, Thousands strong beneath the blackened skies. Conquered lands now turn to dust, Iron shells and cosmic rust. Horizon burns with distant fires, Ancient march of doomed desires. We are the tutelage of doom! We march, march, march through cosmic gloom. Shell by shell, our fate in tune, The doom of space becomes our tomb. Two by two the legions crawl, Shadows rise and empires fall. The slow and me, the crawling kind, Carry the void within their minds. Over the void! The suns ignite! Shells explode into endless night! Cries of doom through fire and flame, The universe trembles, screams our name! March… march… march… March… march… march… Oh, we are the tutelage of doom! We march, march, march through cosmic gloom. Turtle legions, slow but true, Shell to shell — we carry through. March… march… march… Shell to shell… Doom to space… We fade… beyond the realm.
