Kal’Reegar’s “Platoon, Get the Fuck Back to SLEEP!”
(Complete with Traditional Deep Space Radio Earth music by Norah Jones)
Alright now, listen up Marines
I’ve got a little story to tell you creeps
About a massive platoon
That apparently never sleeps.
I need you to set down those rifles, men
I need you to listen real good
I want you to get in your bunks and rest
While old Kal’Reegar talks down your hood.
The barrack ship is all quiet now
None of you grunts should be talking s’damn much
I’ll show you some more ways to snap a geth neck
But if you don’t go to sleep, you’ll need a damn crutch.
The other ships have turned down the lights,
The crew, they make not a peep.
It’s been ninety eight goddamn minutes, marines.
I don’t have time for your shit. Go to sleep.
All the targets on haestrom are neutralized,
The flagship is quiet for once,
Hell no, you can’t go and do combat ops—-
You know where you can go? TO HELL OR SLEEP.
The Scout ships are flying in first.
They’re behind enemy lines, pretty deep.
I’m going to choke the life out of you.
Please, shut the Hell up and sleep.
The explosives are safely tucked away.
Underneath my bunk, in a heap.
What do you mean that sounds dangerous, son?
You’ll be in danger if you don’t go the fuck to sleep.
The rocket launcher is tucked beneath a tarp.
So the priming charges will keep.
No more gabbing, damn it—-this pillow talk is over—-
I’ve got four words for you soldier—-CHOKE HOLD AND SLEEP.
Kirrahee’s got a pistol strapped to his cloaca,
To always be prepared for a ship-planet leap,
I thought it was odd until I saw him use it,
If I show you a picture, will you fuckers sleep?
Tali’Zora’s nice ass is all in bed,
Wait—-No—-Nope. Don’t make a peep.
I’ll break your face if you tell anyone,
That I said Tali’s ass was nice. Sleep.
Your eyes should all be closing,
As I stand here and practically weep.
Sure, fine, I’ll bring you some booze and some straws,
Who the Hell cares? You’re not gonna sleep.
This barracks is all I can remember.
You shitheads should count some Quarian sheep.
You win. Go ahead. I’ll turn off my visor.
As my helmet light dims, and I sleep.
Mumbling and snoring, I wake with a start,
To find your eyes shut, so I keep,
My stungun trained on you as I get the Hell away—-
And pray that you’re fucking asleep.
I’m finally polishing my RPG.
Checking the targeting systems. Beep.
Oh no. God-DAMN-IT. You’ve got to be joking.
PLATOON, GET THE FUCK BACK TO SLEEP!