Empty Can

Empty Can by Jita FM (The Bowhead Song) Out on the undock, slow as a drifting whale, A Bowhead moves through a starlit trail. Painted like freight, no glamour, no gun, But the job gets done when the day is done. Hull like a silo, engines that groan, No shiny turrets, no teeth of my own Yet deep in my frame, the fleet’s asleep, Dreams of glory that captains keep. Call me tin, call me junk, call me target on scan But every war you ever won rode here, in this can. Empty can, empty can, Laugh at the shell while we load the fleet inside. Empty can, Hollow on the hull, but a home for your…