Our Missiles, thine art in launchers,
warheads be thine payload,
Thy destruction come, as thine weapons function,
Upon thy shields, into ye armor, and through thy structure,
In low sec, empire, null, or thy wormhole.

May thy corpse stay solid, upon the retreival.
Take this word, the word that is from BoB.
If he wills it, as all things yield to his will.
Through thine Hybrids, thine cannons, and thine lazzzors.


Give us this gank, our daily isk,
As it is, so is the will of BoB,
This daily isk, be it our blessing.
Forgive us our WCS's,
For we shall forgive nothing done unto us.

BoB, deliver us not into bubbles,
away from scramblers,
and beyond thine enemies optimal.

For we shall deliver thine thermal,
thine Kinetic, thine Explosive,
And Thine Holy Electromagnetic,
for thine desires are shiney and Chrome.

May we ride high to the heavens of Valhalla,
For now and forever our hails be unto BoB,
As it is, in New Eden, until EvE gate be re-done.

Ahmen.