Back in the old rat catching days
we'd pop their heads with our lead shots
send the robodogs out later
bonus payout for every thousand tails
Each busted melon a satisfying pop
each final squeal a delight
a giddy rush of gunfire and mayhem
Not all of us born to it
the dropout rate was high
but I never felt higher
than when the first signal was given
We'd sit around the oil barrels burning
sucking on the rations
faces a fetching blend
of sweat, smoke and juice
Never had much to say but
we knew in our hearts our team was on
the right side of history
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