Sailers tuggers

[intro]
Tuggers......... ARISE!!!
[Verse]
Fränken Scüm in rusted plate,
The tech knight with scars that ache,
Chains of eathertown 
They bind his fate,
He slays the whales who hesitate,
Froster ice roars
His axe swings,
A dragon's heart
A storm that sings,
His revenge fueled rage tears apart most everything.
[Prechorus]
Tar weaves crowds with circuits wild,
His gloomspire tech, 
A echos hearing child,
His sparks ignite,
The dark beguiled.
[Chorus]
Legends rise from shadows deep,
Echo's whispers,
Secrets keep.
Suzan dances,
Voids collide,
Knowledge sharp,
No place to hide.
Markov hums,
The stars align,
A drone with thoughts,
Machine divine.
Sirius bile builds in the fire.
The Tuggers Crew,
The eathers desire.
[Verse 2]
Suzan’s mind reaks of voided black, 
A hoe that reaps, (A hoe that reaps)
No turning back,
She rides the void,
She finds the cracks,
Where gods and demons fear attack.
Markov scans the eather seas,
Looking for the nexus dreams,
He's chained, 
Never free, 
Calculates infinity,
Yet craves what mortals feel and see.
[Prechorus]
Sirius crafts with academic glee, 
An artificer’s botany and tech is what we need, 
The eather-born sprouts is what he seeks.
[Chorus]
Legends rise from shadows deep,
The echo's whispers, 
Secrets keep.
Suzan dances,
Voids collide,
Knowledge sharp,
No place to hide.
Markov hums,
The stars align,
A drone with thoughts,
Machine divine.
Sirius bile builds in the fire.
The Tuggers Crew,
The eathers desire.
[Verse 3]
[Grunting]
As the dungeon master tries to bring them down,
They stand together proud and strong.
His evil minions from the ivory claw,
As Leopold is sipping whaleshine through a straw.
[Pre Chorus]
The tuggers fight with a steel will.
Leopold jumps and steals the kill.
[Final Chorus]
Legends rise from shadows deep,
echo's whispers, 
Secrets keep.
Suzan dances,
Voids collide,
Knowledge sharp,
No place to hide.
Markov hums,
The stars align,
A drone with thoughts,
Machine divine.
Sirius bile builds in the fire.
The Tuggers Crew,
The eathers desire.
[Violin Solo]
[Grunting]
Outro
Tho they are whalers, the eathers desire.
Their dept of gold, unpaid and dire.

Sea shanty