FLIGHT SCHOOL
Through skies of blue my engines thunder,
My wings stretched wide and earth down under.
The bike goes up, the bike goes down,
The pilot's lying on the ground.
Scraped up knees are not much fun,
But Mom is there to help her son.
We climb on up through doors down under,
At gauges, lights, controls we wonder.
The engines rev, the flaps go down,
Release the brakes, we're leaving ground!
The things I've seen, the things I've done,
She reads the letter from her son.
Through skies of blue our engines thunder,
With wings stretched wide and bombs down under.
A flash of orange, then smoke so black,
No more bridge nor railroad tracks.
The captain says, "Our work is done,"
A mother prays, please guard my son.
Through skies of blue our engines thunder,
With wings stretched wide and bombs down under.
A flash of orange, then smoke so black,
Our plane's been hit! We've taken flak!
The battle's lost, but victory's won,
The Father says, come home my son.
David J Allen
September 24, 2004
Back to High Flight