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Six foot four, five foot ten, five foot three
Ryan Ipmar, Kelvin Clients, Powell Bigsby
[Verse 1|firm and calm]
Sir, Phillip Orlo at your command
Reports state that we are down a man
We are left with only three,
There is a tank incoming
We have no cover, no ground, sir
The tank is nearly here, the sound, sir.
What do we do, what do we do, sir?
We wait for the command, for you, sir.
[Pre-chorus]
Six foot four, five foot ten, five foot three
Ryan Ipmar, Kelvin Clients, Powell Bigsby
[Chorus| anxious]
The ridge erupts as the first shell bursts,
Dirt in my mouth and iron in spurts,
Still, sir, I will follow your command!
Sir (Sir)
Sir (Sir)
Sir (Sir)
Orders
Sir (Sir)
Sir (Sir)
Sir (Sir)
Orders sir,
Six foot four, five foot ten, five foot three
Ryan Ipmar, Kelvin Clients, Powell Bigsby
[Verse 2 | steady, obedient]
Sir, understood. We hold the ridge, sir.
Dig in along the broken bridge, sir.
Kelvin, flank the eastern seam.
Powell, guard the shallow stream.
Ryan, keep your sightline clear.
Call the range when the tank draws near.
No one fires until you say,
We let it close. We let it sway,
Sir, we brace on your last word,
We trust the signal, sharp and heard,
We fix our boots into the clay, sir.
We do not look away, sir.
Sir, adjust two clicks to right, sir.
Compensate for failing light, sir.
Check your breathing, slow the hand, sir.
Anchor deep into the land, sir.
Sir, the ground begins to shake, sir.
Feel the iron thunder wake, sir.
Hold the line and bare your teeth, sir.
Let it roll its weight beneath, sir.
Sir, we brace on your last word, sir.
We trust the signal, sharp and heard, sir.
We fix our boots into the clay, sir.
We do not look away, sir.
[Pre-chorus]
Six foot four, five foot ten, five foot three,
Ryan Ipmar, Kelvin Clients, Powell Bigsby.
[Chorus| anxious]
The ridge erupts as the first shell bursts,
Dirt in my mouth and iron in spurts,
Still, sir, I will follow your command!
Sir (Sir)
Sir (Sir)
Sir (Sir)
Orders
Sir (Sir)
Sir (Sir)
Sir (Sir)
Orders sir,
———
[Bridge | aftermath, ringing quiet]
Then the world folds in on one hard breath.
Air turns white.
Sound turns red.
Names scatter where they stood instead.
⸻
[Verse 3 | clipped, fractured, quiet]
Visibility low, sir.
Dust in the lungs, sir.
Kelvin is down, sir.
He won’t respond, sir.
Ryan is calling, sir.
Voice getting small, sir.
Powell is moving, sir.
Not moving at all, sir.
Armor is passing, sir.
Right over us, sir.
I cannot hear you, sir.
Repeat that, sir.
I am still standing, sir.
I am still here, sir.
Requesting new orders, sir.
Requesting—
Six foot four—
No reply.
Five foot ten—
Only sky.
Five foot three—
They die
Sir?
Details
GeneratedMar 28, 2026
Duration3:34
LanguageEnglish
Style
marching snares, heavy drums, heavy bass, dark military march. Fast rap/alternating flow. Raspy male.
Credits
Prompt by
Britz_77
Britz_77ModelAria v5
