Director was upset
In two minutes flat
We're back on the wormhole
Foot to the mat

I can't understand it
There must be a rat
The fleet isn’t standing
Could we leave it at that?

We all had our warp-ins
We each had been taught
We'd over-rehearsed it
We couldn’t be caught

They can't teach you flying
It's something you’ve got
It's the same with a good fight
And each thing we shot

So I don't need attitude
'Cause you knew just what to do
We can’t call for backup
We all need to dock up
Stop talkin smack
Stand by on slack

I was the tackle
You were FC
You had the last word
The 'shoot' or 'don’t shoot'

I knew every wormhole
In the systems we show
But it's not what you're sure of
It's what you don't know

It should have been filled with
The usual corps
Throwing their brawlers
At their front door


We all had our Logis
And were ready for war
But how do you plan for
A fleet of Nestors?