Lyrics

Well they flew in hard from the land o' cheese,
Two Dutch bastards with a taste for war and peace,
SAM Controller, Allocator too,
If you’re flyin’ dirty, they’re gunnin’ for you.

Bandbox boys, sittin’ on a kill switch,
Got missiles loaded, scratchin' that itch.
Patriot, NASAMS, red-hot and mean,
They’ll smoke your ass before you hit the screen.
From Holland with hate, on a freedom crusade,
They don’t talk much — they let the launch bay persuade.

Callsign’s Bandbox, sounds cute as hell,
But mess with 'em once, and you’ll learn real well,
They ain’t here for hugs, they’re stackin' the sky,
You blink too slow — you kiss your ass goodbye.

Radar sweepin’ like a methhead’s stare,
Dutch boys laughin’ while they clear the air,
Ain’t no warning shot, ain’t no delay,
You’re just vapor now, have a nice day!

Bandbox boys, goddamn elite,
Got a joystick hand and a kill-zone beat.
From the lowlands straight to the fight,
They’ll light up your bird in the dead of night.
NATO’s finest, breakin’ all the rules,
Takin’ names and droppin’ fuck-you-fuel.

So if you see ‘em in the TOC with a grin that’s wide,
Just know some poor bastard just fucking died.
From Amsterdam, Utrecht, or maybe The Hague,
These Bandbox boys don’t give a damn what you say.