[Intro: lofi 126 BPM. Heavy acoustic guitar strumming. Slide dobro blues guitar licks. Deep spitting sound.] The campfire light glows on my poor character in underwear I just spawned on the beach and I have a bad feeling out here Armed only with my rock and a torch that lights nothing I get instantly downed by a guy claiming it is a friendly thing Staring at the screen trying to harvest some pieces of wood For RIDERSKILL until dawn just hoping to survive the neighborhood The wind whistles through the trees of this corrupted island Every single bush seems to hide a threat on this land The blueprint of my wooden base is designed in my head tonight But a guy in full metal armor shows up to ruin my setup tonight A patrol helicopter approaches far away in the dark sky above It is the perfect moment to run and hide with zero love No room for honor when you get offline-raided by the server My talent on Rust is once again matching my standard behavior [Chorus: Heavy slide dobro guitar. Whiskey-soaked gravelly vocals. Center mix.] Rebuild everything or just watch the armored doors blow away When the exhaustion of hours of farming makes us cry all day Under the sulfur debris and the fire of failed satchel charges today RIDERSKILL will face the counter-raid and try to save the gear Watch the horizon catch fire under the incendiary rocket shots out there It is the decisive moment the signal of our most total despair The efforts of a whole season can vanish in a few seconds flat When your door code is guessed by the most toxic team on the map But our sense of humor remains intact in the broken foundations We will return to the beach to restart without hesitation [Verse 2: Slow steady drum stomp. Raspy baritone whisper vocals with a texan drawl.] The tool cupboard is destroyed and boxes are broken into pieces The horse died in the stable and I lost my favorite releases The chat scrolls at full speed to celebrate my fall with joy today A roof-camper hidden on his tower waits for my mistakes all day Here the sightlines are perfectly held by guys who never sleep at night Ready for the final battle where I lose my loot without a fight The automatic turrets of the base had no ammunition left in stock The black smoke fills the airlock entry and my heart skips a block The stress rises up when I hear the sound of the satchel beep We stored tons of rocks in our inventory but have no guns to keep Their group progresses slowly through the corridors of my design Every corner of this base becomes the witness of this downfall of mine They thought they would find a challenge but found a clown show The clash of clans echoes through the valley and I have nowhere to go [Chorus: Distorted southern rock guitar chords. Heavy acoustic drum stomps. Sub-bass.] Rebuild everything or just watch the armored doors blow away When the exhaustion of hours of farming makes us cry all day Under the sulfur debris and the fire of failed satchel charges today RIDERSKILL will face the counter-raid and try to save the gear Watch the horizon catch fire under the incendiary rocket shots out there It is the decisive moment the signal of our most total despair The efforts of a whole season can vanish in a few seconds flat When your door code is guessed by the most toxic team on the map But our sense of humor remains intact in the broken foundations We will return to the beach to restart without hesitation [Verse 3: Raw organic drums. Powerful dramatic gravelly voice chest belts.] When you have no escape route left to save your primitive eoka pistol When the upper floor collapses right on your head making it crystal You have to throw your last handmade grenades with your eyes closed tight To erase the threat before ending up naked under the starlight The ultimate confrontation ends in silence after the massive grief The tool cupboard area is empty and my sleeping bag gone like a thief The last raiders leave with my poor wood and my little charcoal supply Silence settles over the ruins of my cardboard empire under the sky We count the wasted hours but our good mood remains our fortress The victory of the enemy has a strong taste of salt in the wilderness Our faces are tired but self-deprecation remains my source of pride We survived the worst raid in the history of our community side The base is completely flattened but the desire to play is alive inside [Outro: Drums drop out. Lonely dobro guitar plucks. Long fading whiskey sigh.] [End]
