Forms in Triplicate For the Emperor!

Описание: Warhammer 40k Insipered song, The Astra Militarum, Parody song !
Music made by Suno AI .
Website : https://suno.com/
Video made in: https://vizzy.io
Project by:Rashan

Lyrics:


“For the Em-pe-ror!”
“All squads—form on the dotted line!”

We queue at dawn for rations, flak vests two sizes wrong,
Our lasguns hum like lanterns—who set them to “LOW” so long?
The Munitorum sent us boots: left-left for both my feet,
The Commissar says “Heresy!” if I complain on beat.

Stamp the form, file the norm, keep calm under fire,
If paperwork’s in triplicate, morale will never tire!

We are the Astra Militarum—flashlights held high in the night,
Bring a knife to a daemon problem… with a Baneblade out of sight.
Prayers, duct tape, grit, and glory—stacked like sandbags to the sky,
For the Emperor! For the Emperor! “PEW-PEW!”—okay, we try.

“Who needs cover?” “We’ve got faith!”
“Who needs coffee?” “Recaff—eighth!”
“Honk if Baneblade!”


Our Leman Russ has character: the driver names it “Sue,”
The manual’s twelve-thousand pages—pictures? maybe two.
The vox-caster coughs static: “Advance in orderly dread,”
Which means “Charge like heroes!”—after Section 9 is read.

Praise the form, praise the norm, praise the Omnissiah’s ink,
If the stamp is slightly crooked, try not to even blink!

We are the Astra Militarum—bayonets and borrowed hope,
If the Chimera won’t start up, we’ll politely push the scope.
Ratlings ate the victory pies, Ogryns hug away your fear,
For the Emperor! For the Emperor! Now sign right here… and here.

A Tech-Priest hums a canticle to wake a sleeping light,
He offers sacred unguent—[whispers] it’s WD-rite.
Cadians still stand their ground though Cadia’s long gone boom,
We plant a flag on paperwork and make the heretics swoon.

Left! Right! Lasgun bright!
Forms aligned! Margins tight!
Clip the seal! Don’t smudge the rite!
Charge the fee—then charge the fight!

We are the Astra Militarum—numbers bigger than our pay,
If the Emperor needs a mountain moved, we file a form today.
Baneblade choir, organ fire, trumpets blare a righteous tone,
For the Emperor! For the Emperor! “No leave, we march on home!”

If terror claws the trenches and the night outgrows the sun,
We pass the flask, we pass the pen—our courage weighs a ton.
We fear not void nor daemon, nor the auditor’s stern gaze,
For love of Throne and ration scrip, we’ll brave the worst of days.

The Commissar adjusts his hat—morale goes up (or else),
He smiles a very friendly smile; we all improve ourselves.
A priest ignites the hymnals with a voice like roaring steel,
Our hearts are stamped “APPROVED,” our faith is very real.

Trim the edge, fold the pledge, staple hope to fate,
When the sky turns warp-storm purple, we still won’t show up late!

We are the Astra Militarum—ordinary made sublime,
Turning clipboards into claymores, turning minutes into time.
If a titan shakes the heavens, we’ll just file “Shook by God,”
For the Emperor! For the Emperor! “Sign here with a nod!”


“Honk if Baneblade!” [SFX: tank rumble closer]
“Lasguns set to ‘PEW’!” [Squad] “Roger, PEW it is.”

Snare taps out the muster roll, brass waves a last salute,
We march in time with paperwork—and somehow still it’s cute.
“For the Em-pe-ror…”

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