|
He, who is falling to the ground |
|
With a bullet in his chest |
|
Was brought down by his own hand |
|
Hardly noticed by the rest |
|
He, who has soared above the clouds |
|
Now will bow upon the ground |
|
For he could remember |
|
As a pilot of the war |
|
And the life that was his was war |
|
Death was his only hope at last |
|
And the glories of his past |
|
Follow in his footsteps |
|
As he tumbles to the grass |
|
He was a child before the war |
|
And he thought of nothing more |
|
Higher than the clouds were |
|
As a pilot he could soar |
|
And the life that was his was war |
|
Soaring, soaring 'bove the clouds |
|
That come up so high, up so high |
|
He was soaring, a pilot of the war |
|
He was soaring, a pilot of the war |
|
He was soaring, a pilot of the war |
|
Oh, there's a trillion of us now |
|
And we've blown the world away |
|
Old man on the park bench |
|
Did he have something to say? |
|
Now as the war is in the past |
|
We forget, he was the last |
|
For he could remember |
|
As a pilot of the war |
|
And the life that was his was war |
|
Soaring, soaring 'bove the clouds |
|
That go up so high, up so high |
|
He was soaring, a pilot of the war |
|
He was soaring, a pilot of the war |
|
He was soaring, a pilot of the war |
