Air Corps Lament
Mine eyes have seen the days of men
Who ruled the fighting sky
With
hearts that laughed at death
And lived for nothing but to fly
But now
those hearts are grounded
And those days are long gone by
The Air Force is
gone to hell
- Glory, flying regulations
Have them read at every station
Crucify the man who breaks one
The Air Force is shot to hell
My bones have felt their pounding throb
A hundred thousand strong
A mighty airborne legion
Sent to right the deadly wrong
But now it's only memory
It only lives in song
The Air Force is gone to hell
The lordly Flying Fortress
And the Liberator, too
Once wrote the doom of Germany
With contrails in the blue
But now the skies are empty
And our planes are wet with dew
And we can't fly for hell
Hap Arnold built a fighting team
That sang the fighting song
About the
wild blue yonder
In the days when men were strong
But now, we're closely
supervised
For fear we may do wrong
The Air Force is gone to hell
- Glory, flying regulations
Have them read at every station
Crucify the man who breaks one
The Air Force is shot to hell
I have seen them in their T-bolts
When their eyes were dancing flame
I've seen their screaming power dives
That blasted Goering's name
But now they fly like sissies
And they hang their heads in shame
Their spirits shot to hell
They flew B-26's
Through a living hell of flak
And bloody, dying pilots
Gave their lives to bring them back
But now they all play ping-pong
In the operations shack
Their technique's gone to hell
You heard your pounding fifties
Blaze from wings of polished steel
The
purring of your Merlin
Was a song your heart could feel
But now, the L-5
charms you
With its moaning, groaning squeal
And it won't climb for hell
- Glory, flying regulations
Have them read at every station
Crucify the man who breaks one
The Air Force is shot to hell
Have you ever climbed a Lightning
Up to where the air is thin
Have you aimed her long nose downward
Just to hear the screaming din
Have you tried to do it lately?
Better not; you'll auger in
And then you'll sure catch HELL!
We were cocky, bold and happy
When we played the angels' game
We split
the blue with buzzing
And we rolled our way to fame
But now that's all
verboten
And we're all so gol-durn tame
Our spirits shot to hell
One clay I buzzed an airfield
With another reckless chap
We flew a hot
formation
With his wingtip in my lap
But there's a new directive
And
well have no more of that
Or you will burn in Hell!
- Glory, flying regulations
Have them read at every station
Crucify the man who breaks one
The Air Force is shot to hell
Mine eyes get dim with tears
When I recall the days of old
When pilots
took their choice
Of being old, or young and bold
Alas, I have no choice
And I will live to be quite old
The Air Force is gone to hell
But smile awhile, my pilots
Though your eyes may still be wet
Someday
we'll meet in heaven
Where the rules have not been set
And God will show
us how to buzz
And roll and really let
The Air Force fly like hell!
- Glory, no more regulations
Rip them down at every station
Ground the guy who tries to make one
And let us fly like hell!
Arrangement Copyright © 1997 Dick Jonas. All rights reserved. Author unknown; arrangement by Dick Jonas; Air Force traditional, via Bill Getz in "The Wild Blue Yonder"