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I can smell it.
It’s here.
Ever consuming.
Ever present but somehow more pungent. Audible. Resonating. Agitating.
The stale shale remnants of seasons past explode from studs as two boots are smacked together revealing a sole.
This Soul.
Scarred in battle. Drowned in sweat. Anointed in Tears of Joy. Wounds and washed in tears of despair. Moments flash from a memory bank that lay until now, dormant.
A memory of an ever present bitter enemy. And with every year that passes, the sinews know they have but one more life, and the bones struggle to stay united with sockets, buoyed with wraps, they fearlessly welcome the inevitable finality of separation.
The heart beats strong. Unwavering. As it has for a hundred years. And blood will spill willingly again, as a heart bellows supply to an ever willing carcass. The flow cannot be stemmed and just as fate is upon us, the spirit like no other persists and the carcass does not fall.
And they run.
A line compressed with room to move independently yet close enough to ensure the 26 legged beast completes the brutal and systematic, relentless execution of its foe. One by one they come. Amassed they fall onto the impregnable fortress. They open the gates. The trap door. It shuts quickly. Severing hope.
They dared to raise their head and hand. They dared to lose them both.
Welcome to hell.
And we march with them. We sing and hold high and proud - the Tricolored standard.
We head to the generational battle fields. With vigour we rush towards the cold awaiting arms of Lady Fate. That bitch.
We cannot contain our selves any more. We have worn the boards and warped the cage bars.
Its time.
A crow splits the silence at Dawn. A scream of defiance that echoes and haunts all comers for 26 weeks.
The moment is here. To fight for your brothers. To believe in good. To destroy the vermin filth that dare - HOW THEY DARE!!!
We are the men from The East.
We know one way.
We know one end.
As one, we are an unstoppable avalanche that flattens all comers in our path.
We are THE MIGHTY ROOSTERS!!!! Born this way not made.
We are marked for life with the RED WHITE and BLUE!!!!
We will fight for our BROTHERS!!!
We will DIE for the colours.
You will scream our name!!!!
And you will never forget......
Its time.....
Feel it. See the whites of their eyes.
Make them roll back deep into their hollow zombie skulls.
The yellow bellied Green and Red disease. Stop it. Hit it and make it wish it never fell out of its demon whore mother’s loins.
Pulverize them beyond recognition.
Do it.
Go Easts.
It’s here.
Ever consuming.
Ever present but somehow more pungent. Audible. Resonating. Agitating.
The stale shale remnants of seasons past explode from studs as two boots are smacked together revealing a sole.
This Soul.
Scarred in battle. Drowned in sweat. Anointed in Tears of Joy. Wounds and washed in tears of despair. Moments flash from a memory bank that lay until now, dormant.
A memory of an ever present bitter enemy. And with every year that passes, the sinews know they have but one more life, and the bones struggle to stay united with sockets, buoyed with wraps, they fearlessly welcome the inevitable finality of separation.
The heart beats strong. Unwavering. As it has for a hundred years. And blood will spill willingly again, as a heart bellows supply to an ever willing carcass. The flow cannot be stemmed and just as fate is upon us, the spirit like no other persists and the carcass does not fall.
And they run.
A line compressed with room to move independently yet close enough to ensure the 26 legged beast completes the brutal and systematic, relentless execution of its foe. One by one they come. Amassed they fall onto the impregnable fortress. They open the gates. The trap door. It shuts quickly. Severing hope.
They dared to raise their head and hand. They dared to lose them both.
Welcome to hell.
And we march with them. We sing and hold high and proud - the Tricolored standard.
We head to the generational battle fields. With vigour we rush towards the cold awaiting arms of Lady Fate. That bitch.
We cannot contain our selves any more. We have worn the boards and warped the cage bars.
Its time.
A crow splits the silence at Dawn. A scream of defiance that echoes and haunts all comers for 26 weeks.
The moment is here. To fight for your brothers. To believe in good. To destroy the vermin filth that dare - HOW THEY DARE!!!
We are the men from The East.
We know one way.
We know one end.
As one, we are an unstoppable avalanche that flattens all comers in our path.
We are THE MIGHTY ROOSTERS!!!! Born this way not made.
We are marked for life with the RED WHITE and BLUE!!!!
We will fight for our BROTHERS!!!
We will DIE for the colours.
You will scream our name!!!!
And you will never forget......
Its time.....
Feel it. See the whites of their eyes.
Make them roll back deep into their hollow zombie skulls.
The yellow bellied Green and Red disease. Stop it. Hit it and make it wish it never fell out of its demon whore mother’s loins.
Pulverize them beyond recognition.
Do it.
Go Easts.
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