The Spit Pilots

The love of their life,
Far more than the wife,
Was passionate,wild and adorin'
Her deep-throated purrin',
Sweet sound of Rolls-Merlin,
Made pilots lose int'rest in whorin'.

Her blazing guns spittin'
In the skies over Britain,
In the dark days of nineteen and forty,
Left many Hun pilots
Still pushing up violets,
Where they ended their one-way sorties.

Their gallant ranks thinning
Each day's grim beginning
To challenge the treat, ever bolder.
And so many were lost,
How to reckon the cost
In brave lads, who'll never grow older?

With blood, sweat and tears,
Thru the war's dismal years,
They gave hope,and defied subjugation.
And a world built anew,
Must forget not those few,
In the Spitfire lore of our nation.

George Thatcher (c) 2001