[Intro — squad bay/shop ambience, tools clanking] CORPORAL: Hey, boot! PFC: Yes, Corporal? CORPORAL: Sergeant's got the Prick-E5. Go get it. PFC: The what? CORPORAL: The Prick-E5. PFC: Eye, Corporal. CORPORAL: And hurry the fuck up! [PFC runs off] MARINE: You going to tell him? CORPORAL: Fuck no. [Fast punk riff kicks in] [Verse 1] Fresh outta boot camp, motivated, Boot bands tight and haircut high, Ready to prove to everybody I'm not the fucking new guy. Corporal says, "We need the Humvee keys, Motor T's got a spare." So I ran my ass across the lot— They said, "Supply's got 'em there." Supply Chief didn't even blink, Said, "Wrong shop, Devil Dog. But while you're here, grab grid squares— Intel's got 'em all." So off I went without a clue, Doing everything they said. Didn't notice every Marine I passed Was laughing when I left. [Pre-Chorus] Motor T sent me to Supply, Supply sent me to Comm. Comm said, "Sergeant's got the Prick-E5— Better move your ass along." [Chorus] GO FIND THE Prick E5! BRING BACK THE HUMVEE KEYS! GRAB A BOX OF GRID SQUARES AND SOME KEM-LIGHT BATTERIES! Need a hundred feet of flight line, And a can of squelch or two! DON'T COME BACK WITHOUT THAT SHIT— WE'RE ALL COUNTING ON YOU! [Verse 2] Intel said the grid squares Were probably down at Ops. Ops said, "Nah, we're all out, But bring this form to Addmin for me." It said ID-10-T Right across the top. Addmin took one look at it— And fucking lost the plot. Gunny said, "Since you're out already, Get an exhaust sample too." Handed me a fucking garbage bag— I said, "Eye, Gunny. Will do." Held that bag behind a Humvee, Thought I finally got one right. Meanwhile half the fucking company Was watching from inside. [Pre-Chorus] Then somebody needed frequency grease, And batteries for the phone. A left-handed crescent wrench— I should've fucking known. [Chorus] GO FIND THE Prick-E5! BRING BACK THE HUMVEE KEYS! GRAB A BOX OF GRID SQUARES AND SOME KEM-LIGHT BATTERIES! Need some relative bearing grease, And an exhaust sample too! DON'T COME BACK WITHOUT THAT SHIT— THE CORE DEPENDS ON YOU! [Verse 3] Finally found the Sergeant, Sitting peacefully at his desk. I'd been running 'round for three damn hours, So I figured he knew best. I stood at parade rest and said, "Sergeant, Corporal sent me here. He said you've got the Prick-E5 And I'm supposed to bring it there." Sergeant slowly raised his head. Room went quiet as the grave. He looked at me... Then looked toward the shop... And I watched his eye start twitching. SERGEANT: Who sent you? PFC: Corporal Young, Sergeant. [Long pause] SERGEANT: CORPORAL YOUNG! [Distant laughter] SERGEANT: GET YOUR FUCKING ASS IN HERE! [Band explodes back in] [Bridge — call and response] WHO'S GOT THE HUMVEE KEYS? MOTOR T! WHERE'S THE BOX OF GRID SQUARES? INTEL! KEM-LIGHT BATTERIES? SUPPLY! Prick-E5? [Everyone points] SERGEANT! SERGEANT: Fuck every one of you. [Verse 4] Years went by and somehow They pinned Sergeant on my chest. New generation of young Marines Showed up knowing fucking best. Then one morning there's a brand-new PFC Standing nervous at my door. Still smells like Parris Island, Never seen this game before. PFC: Sergeant? SERGEANT: Yeah? PFC: Corporal says you have the Prick-E5. [Music stops] I stared at him for just a second... And remembered being nineteen. The grid squares. The garbage bag. Those goddamn Humvee keys. I could've ended it right there. Could've finally broken the chain. Instead I leaned back in my chair... And proudly explained: [Final Chorus] GO FIND THE Prick-E5! BUT FIRST GET THE HUMVEE KEYS! THEN GRAB A BOX OF GRID SQUARES AND SOME KEM-LIGHT BATTERIES! Get some relative bearing grease, And bring that shit to me! EVERY GENERATION LEARNS— THE SAME WAY WE DID, BOOT! GO FIND THE Prick-E5! DON'T ASK WHAT IT MEANS! From Guadal canal to Pendleton— Okay, maybe not literally. But as long as there are brand-new boots Who'll believe the shit we say... Marines will keep this sacred art Alive another day! [Final chord] [Outro] MARINE: You know he's actually gonna look for all that shit, right? SERGEANT: Yep. MARINE: That's fucked up. SERGEANT: Yep. [pause] MARINE: You gonna stop him? SERGEANT: Nope. [door opens] PFC: Sergeant? Motor T says Lieutenant has the Humvee keys. [pause] SERGEANT: Oh, this is gonna be a good fucking day. [Guitar sting]
