Verse 1 They told me, “Commissar, they come in peace today.” I answered, “Excellent… point me where they stay.” They preach of bright tomorrows, of harmony and grace, I answer with a bolter shell right through their smiling face. They show up grinning politely, blue pamphlets in their hands, Selling “Greater Good” like merchants selling pans. “Join our shining Empire! Together we shall thrive!” I was already thriving… When I wasn’t letting you survive. Chorus The Greater Good? My eye! My bolter disagrees. Your peace is just a coffin Painted blue to put us all at ease. The Greater Good? My eye! I’d rather fight the Orks! At least when they come kill me, They don’t need fourteen speeches first! ⸻ Verse 2 Drones and fancy battlesuits, railguns by the score, Yet not one blue-skinned coward wants to settle things up close. They shoot from half a continent, Then boast of courage loud… That’s easy when your “heroism” Needs binoculars in the crowd. “You’ll all be welcome!” so they say. “Every species has its place!” Funny… So does every xenos. Usually six feet underground. “You even welcome humans!” Congratulations. You’ve invented treason… With better marketing. Chorus The Greater Good? My eye! Your propaganda’s neat. But my power sword translates High Gothic rather sweet. The Greater Good? My eye! Keep all your grand designs. The Emperor protects His own… You people worship pie charts and spreadsheets. ⸻ Bridge And then… The Ethereals. “Oh no… We don’t control anyone.” Really? Then why does every Tau nod Like someone just unplugged his brain? Curious. Very curious. ⸻ Verse 3 You promise hope. You promise peace. You promise unity. How generous. All it costs… Is your soul, Your Emperor, And a suspicious amount of blue paint. Your Empire is clean. Your Empire is orderly. Your Empire is efficient. That’s exactly what worries me. Because in this galaxy… If something looks reasonable… It’s almost certainly heresy. ⸻ Final Chorus The Greater Good? My eye! Take your sermons and depart! The Emperor sits upon His Throne… And you’ll be meeting Him shortly. The Greater Good? My eye! I sign in boltgun lead. Your diplomacy expires The moment I say, “Guardsmen… Fix bayonets.” ⸻ Outro (spoken) Guardsmen! If a Tau offers you an alliance… Decline. If he offers prosperity… Decline. If he hands you a brochure… Burn it. And if he starts another speech… Shoot him. He’ll understand. Probably. For the Emperor!
