Eighteen thirty and we hit high gear
Dash to our barracks, change
Out of these uniforms into beach wear
Meet in the BEQ parking lot in ten.
We race each other. (I usually win).
Find that unremarkable Cobalt, and we're off.
Any working hour worries, frustrations, troubling thoughts
Are patiently discussed and resolved
You grumble. I sigh
Laughter invades the tensions
All negativity soars out the window
As we rush towards our destination
Topic turns to the people we know
You groan about Clemen's torments
Smugala's amused, "fucking Morris!!"
We eagerly plan the weekend surprise
In store for our friend Kersch
A night in a cabin and one on the beach
Ford reminds us of a tegu, running.
Then we sing. Not just any song
We sing of luck, and love
Get excited over cold beer on a Friday night
A pair of jeans that fit just right
Dreams of dying are the best we've had
And Hakuna Matata is our motto.
A rabbit screams down the hole
You scream at Justin Bieber
We serenade Delilah in New York City
Our voices blend perfectly.
Nothing matters except this moment, now
So we grin at each other and keep driving
Till Perdito Key fades in the background
The sun fades from view
These are the moments that keep us
Fighting for our country
For our sanity
This is our song.