[Intro — bar ambience, glass hits table] Born in a tavern, Raised to fight, First ones in when shit ain't right. There's just one problem With that battle cry— WE WERE BORN IN A BAR... SO WE'RE TOO FUCKING DRUNK TO DRIVE! [Engine starts — band explodes in] FIRST TO FIGHT! SOMEBODY DRIVE! [Verse 1 — Navy] Navy's got the carriers, Destroyers by the score, Submarines across the seas— Battleships? NOT ANYMORE. Sail us halfway 'round the world, Through the darkness, day and night, We respect the job you're doing— NOW DROP US BY THE FUCKING FIGHT! “It's a ship, Marine, not Uber.” Yeah, whatever, Squid, that's fine. Pull this bitch up to the beach— WE'LL TAKE IT FROM HERE. THANKS FOR THE RIDE! [Pre-Chorus] We're first to fight! We're born to lead! But getting ourselves there— AIN'T REALLY OUR SPEED! [Chorus] FIRST TO FIGHT! SOMEBODY DRIVE! Get us to the war—we'll handle it fine! By land! By sea! By air! Someday space! JUST DROP THE MARINES AT THE PROPER PLACE! You've got the money! We've got the pride! You've got equipment made after '95! Call us jealous? ...MAYBE YOU'RE RIGHT. But we're still Marines— SO SOMEBODY DRIVE! [Verse 2 — Air Force] Then there's the fucking Chair Force, Climate-controlled and clean, Best damn chow we've ever tasted, Nicest rooms we've ever seen. Private rooms and decent mattresses, Wi-Fi, working heat— We call 'em soft while looking 'round like— HOLY FUCK, THIS PLACE IS SWEET. “Marines, your flight is boarding.” Wait— YOU'VE GOT SNACKS UPON THIS FLIGHT? We don't need your fancy bullshit... What kind? ... ALL RIGHT, ONE BITE. Still soft! Still spoiled! Still talking shit tonight! But you've got wings, we've got a war— AIR UBER, TAKE US TO THE FIGHT! [Chorus] FIRST TO FIGHT! SOMEBODY DRIVE! Get us to the war—we'll handle it fine! By land! By sea! By air! Someday space! JUST DROP THE MARINES AT THE PROPER PLACE! You've got the money! We've got the pride! You've got equipment made after '95! Call us jealous? ...MAYBE YOU'RE RIGHT. But we're still Marines— SO SOMEBODY DRIVE! [Verse 3 — Army] Army's got more people, More helicopters, newer gear, More money, tanks and vehicles, Logistics out the rear. Bigger bases, better funding, Plenty shit we'd love to own, Think that means we're getting jealous? NAH, WE'RE FUCKING GOOD. MOVE ON. “We can give you guys a ride.” NO. “Black Hawks standing by.” NO. “We've got trucks.” WE'RE GOOD. “Objective's eighty miles.” ... WE'D RATHER FUCKING WALK. [Verse 4 — Coast Guard] Coasties guard the coastline, Pulling people from the waves, Hunting down the smugglers— OKAY, THAT SHIT'S PRETTY BRAVE. Smallest branch at family dinner, Still you punch above your weight, Coast Guard, we'll admit it— YOU'VE EARNED YOUR PLACE ON THIS PLATE. But if the fight's beyond the shoreline And the Navy's running late, You've got boats and we've got rifles... YOU BUSY SATURDAY AT EIGHT? [Bridge — Space Force] Then somebody made the Space Force. Cool. WHAT THE FUCK DO THEY DO? Missile warnings, satellites, Orbital... something... FUCK IF WE KNEW. But here's the part that pisses us off: SPACE MARINES WAS RIGHT FUCKING THERE! You had the coolest name imaginable— AND THREW THAT BITCH INTO THE AIR! We could've fought some aliens, Dropped Marines behind their lines, Give us rifles, point toward Mars— WE'LL HAVE THAT BITCH SECURED BY FIVE! “Space Force says that's not our mission.” Whatever. When aliens finally arrive— FIRE UP THE SPACE UBER, NERDS! THE MARINES WILL NEED A RIDE! [Breakdown — call and response] NAVY! “What's our mission?” DRIVE THE MARINES! AIR FORCE! “What's our mission?” FLY THE MARINES! COAST GUARD! “Seriously?” BACKUP MARINE UBER! SPACE FORCE! “We operate orbital—” ALIENS! DRIVE THE MARINES! ARMY! “We can drive—” NOBODY FUCKING ASKED! [Verse 5] Maybe we're obnoxious, Maybe we've got too much pride, Maybe “First to Fight” gets complicated— WHEN WE ALWAYS NEED A RIDE. Technically the Navy got there Before we stormed across the sand... WE DON'T NEED TO OVERTHINK THAT. Thinking wasn't in the plan. Give the others all their funding, Fancy barracks, newer gear, Working heat and air conditioning— ...Can we get some of that here? No? Fine. We'll make this ancient shit still run, Like Marines have always done, Then talk shit like we're the richest— LIKE OUR BUDGET'S NUMBER ONE! [Final Chorus] FIRST TO FIGHT! SOMEBODY DRIVE! Get us to the war—we'll handle it fine! Ocean! Runway! Coast! Outer space! JUST DROP THE MARINES AT THE PROPER PLACE! You've got the money! You've got the rides! You've got that comfortable quality of life! Are we jealous? A LITTLE INSIDE. Would we trade? FUCK NO! SEMPER FI! We're first to fight! We'll bring the pride! Just point toward the enemy— AND GIVE US A FUCKING RIDE! MARINES ARE READY! MARINES HAVE ARRIVED! ... Thanks for the ride. [Final chord]
