I've posted these before but here ya go Lanc....
Oh, Hedy Lamarr is a beautiful gal,
And Madeleine Carrol is too.
But you'll find, if you query,
a different theory
amoungst any bomber crew.
For the loveliest thing
of which one could sing
this side of the Heavenly Gates,
is no blonde or brunette
of the Hollywood set,
but an escort of P-38s.
Yes, in days that have passed,
when the tables were massed
With glasses of scotch or champagne,
It's quite true that the sight
was a thing to delight us,
Intent upon feeling no pain.
But no longer the same,
nowadays, in this game,
When we head north
from Messlina Straights,
Take the sparkling wine--every time
just make this mine
An escort of P-38s.
Byron, Shelley, and Keats
ran a dozen dead heats
Describing the view from the hills,
Of the valleys in May
When the winds gently sway
An army of bright daffodils.
Take the daffodils
Byron--the wild flowers, Shelley--
Yours in the myrtle, Friend Keats;
Just reserve me those cuties
--American Beauties--
An escort of P-38s
Sure, we're braver than hell,
on the ground all is swell,
in the air it's a different story.
We sweat out our track,
through the fighters and flak,
we're willing to split up the glory.
Well they wouldn't reject us,
so Heaven protect us,
and until all the shooting abates,
give us courage to fight 'em,
and one other small item,
An Escort of P-38s!
_____________________________________________________________
Don't give me a P-39 with an engine that's mounted behind
It will tumble and roll and dig a big hole
Don't give me a P-39.
Don't give me a P-38 with props that counter-rotate
They'll loop, roll and spin but they'll soon auger in
Don't give me a P-38!
Don't give me an old Thunderbolt. It gave many pilots a jolt
It looks like a jug and it flies like a tug
Don't give me an old Thunderbolt!
Don't give me a Peter Four Oh, a hell of an airplane, I know
A ground loopin' bastard. You're sure to get plastered
Don't give me a Peter Four Oh.
Don't give me a P-51, it was all right for fighting the hun
But with coolant tank dry. you'll run out of sky
Don't give me a P-51.
Don't give me a P-61, for night flying is no fun
They say it's a lark. but I'm scared of the dark
Don't give me a P-61.