I once was a farmer, my pops favorite boy
I once was a brother to bill and to Roy
I once thought the world was our farm on the
plains I once stopped and listened to the
whistles of trains
then all that was gone, and a new world was born
where each day of my life was raged and torn
and I sat in the sky and looked down on the earth
and I preyed to the lord for all I was worth
I was pulled through the clouds, not of my desire
as aluminum and glass climbed higher and higher
where far out behind came fingers of white
from a group of my peers that had come out to
fight
I watched and I stared and I huddled in fear
but never a time would I shed me a tear
for the others like me that would drop, screaming
pain as they fell to the ground again and again
this trip there were five, good boys every one
each calling their mothers, their fathers scream
son as they wake in the night with the sweat and
the tears for the boys that they fathered dead
young in their years
and onward we went, for a duty to bear
from England to Germany, us boys over there
as we lived for the moment and died by the lead
Oh how I wish I were safely in bed
But this trip was my last, I had known it before
I knew as I swung in the Ball turret door
I knew when the flashes came out from the wing
I knew that last night, the last night to sing
With a tear and a rip I was free of the glass
plummeting to earth, back to the grass
nothing to save me, the chute was in flames
I rode on my last horse, when I left the high
plains.
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