KNIGHTS OF THE SKY
No shining armor, no gleaming sword.
No crested helmets, and no liege-lords.
The conflict ahead, like no other before.
Brought millions of men, before death's door.
Some of these men came, to fight the fight.
Their horror of war was fought in flight.
A different group; a whole new breed,
Wood, canvas and engine, became their steed.
This uncharted world of air combat
Was new to them, and I'll tell you that,
Many say they were gentleman all.
But I'll testify that they heard the warrior's call.
When you hear the tales of the honorable men
Who allowed their foes to live and to fly again.
My heart tells me that you all know the score;
For each one left alive, died a hundred more.
The lessons learned surely paved the way
For the sons to follow in the new dark days.
Their mounts did change, with speed and power.
Was there any quarter given during Britain's "Finest Hour"?
On the bombing raids over Germany,
Or at Midway Island across the sea,
Many brave young lads stared into death
And far to many drew a long last breath.
But still the world can't seem to see
That there's a better way that we should all be free.
So once again, the young shed blood
On Korean snow, and in Viet Nam's mud.
From wooden props to afterburners;
From canvas skins to stuff much sterner.
The men whose job, is "Control the Skies".
Must do their work, with killers' eyes.
There is no glory when it comes to war.
The end result should be to want no more.
But sadly I feel we haven't reached that day.
The young will fall while their mothers pray.