Do not go gentle into that gudfight, Good logi should heat when armor gives way, Rage, rage ping when you see the cyno’s light.
Though FC’s know to disengage is right, Because their fleet pledged faithful bravery they, Do not go gentle into that gudfight.
Bombers, the last squad by, crying how bright, Their frail hulls might have dunked a Super they, Rage, rage torps when the factions are too light.
Inty’s who caught targets at the sun in flight, And learn, too late, the fleet’s regions away, Do not drop point on the targets they fight.
Grave caps, low hull, hostile doomsday in sight, Blingy pods could crumble and lul pwned gay, Rage, rage comms when their credit limit’s tight.
And you, my FC, as we lose this fight, Curse, bless, me now with primaries, I pray. Do not go gentle into that gudfight, Rage, rage, and burn down valiantly tonight. o7