[Intro] GunnFamm is cruising through the pipes of Heimatar To bring some pirate suppression to Osoggur So the insurgency don't spreads to isolate Dammalin From the rest of high sec Time to beat some angels back While the cynos flare red, and the gates all flash black Clone alarms still hum in the station stack Undock lights blink like a cardiac Fleet chat flickers like a prophecy Bookmarks laid out like a liturgy Jump clones wait like loaded dice Every hull a prayer, every volley a price [Verse 1] We make it rain and pour Boys We’re the top of the class So say goodbye to your wives and say goodbye to your cash Take a deep breath and try to avoid cardiac arrest We're here to save the Republic Let's go get our bags Scope the grid, check the scan, hear the sabres drag Read the mails, hear the tales in the command chat lag Anchor up, burn in tight, feel the vectors cross Hear the FC chant ranges like a mystic gloss D-scan whispers little myths about the loss Every ping a stanza in the doctrine's gloss [Pre-Chorus A] So spread the word The angels are burning We get the call The angel is burning In the static between every warning Hear the war drums turning, yearning Every ping is a hymn, every lock a verse Every wreck on the gate is a line of the curse [Chorus] Pirate suppression in Osoggur They run away when they see us They're not feeling so sure We have 'em running scared We send 'em straight to hell The wheels are turning The angel is burning Under sentry fire, under tower guns [Verse 3] Gate guns glow like candles in the low-sec night We warp in tight, turn the dark to light Angel raiders think they’re blessed by crime But their booster dreams got an expiry time Killmarks painted on our battered hulls Like saga runes carved in rust and nulls From Augas down to Floseswin’s line Every burned-out wreck is a warning sign We don’t preach peace from a distant chair We write our vows with autocannon flare [Pre-Chorus A] So spread the word The angels are burning We get the call The angel is burning In the static between every warning Hear the war drums turning, yearning Every ping is a hymn, every lock a verse Every wreck on the gate is a line of the curse [Breakdown] Cut the prop, kill the guns, let the bassline drop Hear the armor reps tick like a distant clock Call the primaries out in a whispered shock “Hold, hold, hold” while the hull bars rock One more broadcast, one more save One more angel breaking on the gate we brave Strip the sound down bare to the lock and click Just heartbeats, heat warnings, and the cyno’s wick Then the boosters hit and the shields climb slow Low drums, low voice on the command comms flow “Check your ammo, check your souls, this is where we stay” In the quiet between salvos, hear the grid obey [Chorus] Pirate suppression in Osoggur They run away when they see us They're not feeling so sure We have 'em running scared We send 'em straight to hell The wheels are turning The angel is burning [Verse 4] In the belts where the lonely miners hide We’re the quiet shadow on their d-scan side Check the rock, check local, count the names One neutral too many, we load the flames Angel probes like gnats in the cosmic dust But our claws bite first when they breach our trust From duct-taped Rifters to the Muninn wall Every frame of steel answers tribal call You can hear the faith in the armor rep Each green tick hums: “We’re not done yet” [Pre-Chorus B] So hold the line When the neuts start churning Brace for the spike Feel the overview blurring In the silence before every volley Hear the courage forming, slowly Every prop-mod whine, every heat-scarred rack Is a vow that we speak when there’s no way back [Chorus] Under sentry fire, under tower guns We’re the storm they feared, we’re the chosen ones In the scan-res glow and the tracer runs Hear the chorus of guns, how the rhythm stuns Orbit close, feel the plates complain Hear the armor alarms like a rattling chain When the last pod warps and the grid goes plain All that’s left is the killmail, carved with our name [Verse 5] From Rens to Hek, word travels fast About the rust-clad fleet that will always last Market alts count isk from the loot we bring Blood money turned to a freedom ring Republic Fleet tags in a plastic tray Proof we pushed one more nightmare away [outro] They run away when they see us They're not feeling so sure We have 'em running scared We send 'em straight to hell Under sentry fire, under tower guns [chorus] We’re the storm they feared, we’re the chosen ones In the scan-res glow and the tracer runs Hear the chorus of guns, how the rhythm stuns Orbit close, feel the plates complain Hear the armor alarms like a rattling chain When the last pod warps and the grid goes plain All that’s left is the killmail, carved with our name
