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As I bring to bear my flying gun,

I think of flaming a mother's son.

In a hail of hot lead

His noble bird disintegrates and he is dead.

Each day we play this deadly game,

Dancing across the sky, going down in flames.

Today was his time to be,

Tomorrow, another, maybe me.

As we lift off to do our daring do,

I think of home, my children, and you.

'Er I return, being God's will,

Another mother's son may not, for he I have killed.

We climb ever upward in the sky

Doing our duty to fight and die.

For our countries and our way of life,

We meet our fate in this strife.

I watch the stricken bird fall to earth,

Back to where it was given birth.

Did he have a daughter, son, or wife

Who will now have that emptiness in their lives?

Of these things I must not dwell,

Or it could be me being blown to hell..

Whether he believed in the cause, we will never know,

But his country called and he had to go?

He did his duty whether right or wrong

Acquitting himself well, a rememberance when gone.

A small stone to mark his grave site,

A missing man formation in an overflight.

In a few years, when life resumes again,

This valiant warrior will be all but forgotten.

May he rest in heavenly peace

'Cause as he plummetted to earth,

So did a part of me.